•  ROMANTIC  PASSAGES 


SOUTHWESTERN  HISTORY; 


INCLUDING 


ORATIONS,  SKETCHES,  AND  ESSAYS. 


BY  A.  B.  MEEK, 

n 

Author  of  «  THE  RED  EAGLE,"  «  SONGS  AND  POEMS  OF  THE  SOUTH,"  etc. 


EDITION. 


M  O  IB  I  JJ  E  : 
H.  GOETZEL  &  CO.,  33  DAUPHIN  STREET. 

NEW  YORK :— 117  FULTON  STREET. 

1857. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1857,  by 

S.  H.  GOETZEL  &  COMPANY, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


F  RENCH   &,  WHEAT, 

Printers   and   Btereotypers 

No.  18  Ann  Street  Nev  York, 


PREFACE. 


THE  maxim  of  Crebillon — not  as  we  will,  but  as  the  winds  will, — 
receives  many  a  verification  in  literary  performance.  It  has  been 
so  with  this  volume.  The  author  originally  proposed  publishing 
an  extended  collection  of  his  miscellaneous  orations,  sketches, 
and  essays,  and  arranged  the  materials  for  that  purpose,  but  they 
were  found  too  voluminous  for  embodiment  in  the  proposed  limits. 
Yielding,  therefore,  to  the  behests  of  necesssity,  he  placed  aside 
the  larger  portion  of  his  productions,  and  selected  such  as  might 
fairly  fall  within  the  purview  of  the  title,  suggested  by  his  pub 
lishers,  "  Romantic  Passages  in  Southwestern  History."  The 
contents  of  the  volume  are  chiefly  of  this  kind,  though  two  of  the 
orations,  and  some  of  the  reflections  in  others,  are  of  a  more  gen 
eral  literary  character,  and  scarcely  pertinent  to  the  specific  ap 
pellation  of  the  book.  They  will  all  be  found,  however,  it  is 
believed, — from  the  stand-points  of  their  view,  and  the  tendency 
of  their  speculations, — to  bear,  reflectively  at  least,  upon  the 
phases  and  fortunes  of  the  section  of  our  country,  to  which  the 
more  strictly  historic  papers  apply.  It  should  also  be  stated  that 
though  the  term  "Romantic"  is  used,  it  is  intended  to  indicate 
rather  the  peculiar  character  of  the  incidents,  the  manner  of 

248012 


PREFACE. 


their  arrangement,  and  the  coloring  of  the  style,  than  any  want 
of  authenticity  in  the  facts  narrated.  These  were  gleaned,  thro, 
years  of  labor  and  research,  in  a  comparatively  untrodden  & 
and  implicit  reliance  may  be  placed  upon  the  good  faith  ol 
historic  statement. 

About  half  this  volume  has  been  published  before,  in  isolate, 
portions,  in  pamphlets  or  periodicals.     The  author  has  been  grat- 
tified  that  his  researches  in   Southwestern  History  have  been 
recognised  as  valuable,  by  Bancroft,  Theodore  Irving,  Simms,  and 
Pick°ett,  in  their  more  capacious  and  dignified  performances 
This  has  induced  him  to  revive  his  articles  as  they  were  originally 
produced,  with  the  addition  of  other  and  more  copious  sketches, 
elucidating  our  early  history.     These  were  written,  for  incidental 
purposes,  while  preparing  a  more  elaborate  work  yet  to  be  pub 
lished,  but  they  may  serve,  in  their  present  form,  to  gratify  the 
general  reader  better  than  in  a  more  staid  and  regular  connection. 
°  With  these  explanations,  the  author  submits  this  volume,  as  an 
humble  guide-book  to  an  almost  uncultured  territory,  in  which 
the  Historian,  the  Novelist,  and  the  Poet  may  find  the  richest 
materials  and  incentives  for  the  highest  exercise  of  their  respec 
tive  vocations. 


CONTENTS. 


ORATIONS. 

Page. 
THE  SOUTHWEST  :  ITS  HISTORY,  CHARACTER,  AND  PROS 

PECTS,     ---------  13 

Physical  Characteristics,          -        -        -        -  17 

Obscurity  of  Early  Annals,  -----  20 

A  Battle  Picture,  in  1540,       -----  23 

The  Spanish  and  French  Eras,      -        -        -        -  25 

A  Russian  Princess  at  Mobile,  30 

Bienville's  Battles  in  Mississippi,  -  32 

Court  of  Napoleon  in  Alabama,  37 

The  Red  Men  of  the  Forest,          -        ...  43 

Social  and  Intellectual  Condition,  48 
Influence  of  African  Servitude,     -        -        -        - 

Brilliant  Prospects,         ------  63 

CLAIMS  AND  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  ALABAMA  HISTORY,     -  73 

Spanish  and  French  Explorations,  Forts,  and  Mis 
sionary  Establishments,    -----  78 
British  Possession  during  the  American  Revolution,  85 


Vi  CONTENTS. 

CLAIMS   AND    CHARACTERISTICS    or    ALABAMA  -  HISTORY, 

Continued : 

Page. 

Huguenot  Colony  on  the  Escambia, 

Independence  Movements  at  Mobile  and  Pensacola,  90 

Capture  of  Mobile,  by  Galvez,  91 
Great  Commercial  House  of  Panton,  Leslie,  Forbes 

&Co., 92 

First  Anglo-Saxon  Settlements,  - 

The  Daniel  Boones  of  Alabama,  96 

Wars  and  Adventures  with  the  Indians3       -        -  102 

The  Printing  Press  and  the  Schoolmaster,       -        -  104 

AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE,      -----        109 
JACK-CADEISM  AND  THE  FINE  ARTS,        -  147 

NATIONAL  WELCOME  TO  THE  SOLDIERS  RETURNING  FROM 

MEXICO,     -  -    193 

Incidents  on  the  Northern  Line,  -  200 

Landing  of  the  Army,  and  Capture  of  Vera  Cruz,    -  203 
Passes  of  the  Cordilleras,  and  Panoramic  View  of  the 

Valley  of  Mexico,    - 204 

The  Palmetto  Regiment,  and  the  Death  of  Butler,  -  206 

Thrilling  Incidents, 208 


SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

THF  PILGRIMAGE  OF  DE  SOTO,     -----  213 

Brilliant  Armament  at  Tampa  Bay,         -  216 

March  through  Georgia,      -        -  -        -  220 


CONTENTS.  VII 

THE  PILGRIMAGE  OF  DE  SOTO,  Continued: 

Page. 

Wanderings  in  Alabama,          -        -        -        - .       -  223 

Tuscaloosa,  the  Great  Chief, 226 

The  Terrible  Battle  at  the  City  of  Mauville,        -  228 

March  through  Mississippi  and  Battle  of  Chicasaw,  232 

Discovers  the  Father  of  Waters,  and  is  Buried  in  it,  233 

THE  MASSACRE   AT  FORT  MIMS,  AND   THE  FIRST  WHJWE 

SETTLEMENTS  IN  ALABAMA,       -----  235 

The  Tombeckbee  and  Tensaw  Settlements,  and  the 

Names  of  the  First  Pioneers,  239 

Tecumseh  among  the  Creek  Indians,        -  242 

Battle  of  Burnt  Corn, 245 

Fort  Mims  and  its  Defenders,  -----  249 

Destruction  of  the  Fort,      -----  252 

Dixon  Bailey  and  his  Death,  -----  256 

BIOGRAPHY  OF  "WEATHERFORD,  OR  THE  KED  EAGLE,  AND 

OF  OTHER  CREEK  CHIEFS  AND  WARRIORS,        -        -  259 

Alexander  McGillivray,  the  Creek  Emperor,  and  Le 

Clerc  Milfort,  a  General  of  Napoleon,       -        -  264 
David  Tait,  the  British  Colonel,  and  Charles  Weath- 

erford,  the  Scotch  Horse-Racer,        -        -        -  265 

Description  of  Weatherford,  by  Claiborne,   -        -  269 

The  Cornells' Family,     ------  274 

Loves  of   the  Wilderness,  and  Wife-Swapping:    a 

True  but  Tragic  Story, 275 

The  Holy  Ground,  the  Home  of  Weatherford,  278 

Battle  of  Tohopeka,  or  the  Horse-Shoe,  -  280 

Surrender  and  Eloquent  Speech  to  General  Jackson,  284 

Life  After  the  War,  and  Anecdotes,                          -  289 


Vlii  CONTENTS. 

Page. 
THE  CANOE  FIGHT,  AND  OTHER  KOMANTIC  AND  SANGUINARY 

INCIDENTS  IN  THE  EARLY  HISTORY  OF  ALABAMA,  295 

Old  British  and  other  Boundaries  with  the  Indians,  297 

Romantic  History  of  Mrs.  Merrill,                    -        -  300 

Gallant  Feat  of  Haden  and  his  Dogs,  301 

Singular  Escape  of  Tandy  Walker  and  George  Foster,  303 

Biography  of  Gen.  Samuel  Dale,           -  306 

Sketch  of  James  Smith,  ------  309 

Biography  of  Jeremiah  Austill,   -  310 

Expedition  in  Search  of  the  Indians,        -  312 

The  Canoe  Fight, 314 

Subsequent  Events  in  the  Lives  of  Austill,  Smith 

and  Dale, 318 

THE  FAWN  OF  PASCAGOULA,  OR  THE  "CHUMPA"  GILL  OF 

MOBILE, 323 


ORATIONS. 


THE  SOUTHWEST; 

ITS  HISTORY,   CHARACTER  AND   PROSPECTS 


AKST    ORATION 

BEFORE   THE 

c  Soeietg  of  %  ^Tniforsilg  0f  gtlabamn, 
DECEMBER  7,   1839. 


ORATION. 


GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  EROSOPHIC  SOCIETY  : 

AROUND  this  altar,  consecrated  to  the  Muses,  you 
have  again  assembled  to  celebrate  the  festivities  of 
Literature.  From  the  avocations  of  private  life,  you 
have  called  me  to  act  an  important  part  in  the  cere 
monies  of  the  time.  Bossuet,  the  first  of  French 
pulpit  orators,  tells  us  that  it  was  his  invariable  cus 
tom,  when  preparing  for  the  delivery  of  a  public 
address,  to  replenish  his  mind,  by  a  close  study  of 
the  productions  of  the  master  spirit  of  ancient  learn 
ing — and  that,  for  such  occasions,  he  always  re-illu 
minated  "his  lamp  at  the  torch  of  Homer/'  If  this 
was  the  practice  of  one  of  the  chief  of  that  galaxy  of 
intellectual  luminaries,  which  diffused  the  mild  and 
humanizing  graces  of  literature  over  the  turbulent 
reign  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth, — how  much  more  does 


14  ORATIONS. 

it  behove  an  humble  individual,  in  arising  to  address 
an  American  audience — an  audience  peculiarly  suited 
by  their  manners  and  customs,  their  political  and  lit 
erary  institutions,  and  by  all  their  habits  of  thought, 
to  criticise  and  appreciate  what  may  be  said, — and 
many  of  whom  are  fresh  from  the  investigation  of  the 
inimitable  models  of  classic  lore, — how  much  more 
does  it  behove,  I  say,  such  an  individual,  under  such 
circumstances,  to  prepare  his  mind,  with  the  utmost 
circumspection  and  care.  With  a  due  sense  of  this 
high  obligation,  Gentlemen,  I  should  have  answered 
your  very  complimentary  request  to  pronounce  your 
Anniversary  Discourse,  with  a  prompt  but  a  grateful 
refusal,  had  I  not  been  urged  by  other,  and,  to  me, 
more  interesting  considerations.  There  are,  in  my 
mind,  a  thousand  remembrances  clustering  around 
this  spot,  which  will  ever  be  treasured  and  dear. 
Here  the  most  blissful  period  of  my  life  was  passed; 
and,  as  I  now  look  back,  through  the  vista  of  years, 
to  that  brief  moonlight  track  upon  the  waters  of 
youth,  its  incidents  pass  before  me,  like  the  creations 
of  a  dream,  and  the  feelings  it  produces  are  akin  to 
the  holiest  raptures  of  poetry.  Such  are  the  emo 
tions,  always,  excited  by  a  return  to  the  intellectual 
home  of  our  boyhood,  and  the  hope  of  their  renewal 
is  one  of  the  principal  reasons  that  has  brought  me 
before  you  to-day. 

But,  Gentlemen,  I  should  ill  requite  the  confidence 
you  have  reposed  in  me,  and  should  do  violence  to  my 
own  feelings,  if,  upon  this  occasion,  I  were  merely  to 
attempt  to  amuse  you  with  rhapsodies  of  sentiment. 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  15 

or  to  scatter  in  your  path  the  luxuriant  roses  that 
bloom  in  the  Edens  of  Fancy.  We  live  in  a  practical 
age,  and  are  met  for  practical  purposes.  The  long 
course  of  education  which  you  are  pursuing,  and  which 
to  some  of  you,  so  far  as  its  collegiate  character  is 
concerned,  will  soon  cease, — though,  to  the  loving- 
heart,  its  occupations  may  appear  more  like  elysian 
raptures  than  the  dull  realities  of  life, — and  though 
flowers  may  hang  upon  every  branch,  and  grateful 
fruits  delight  the  taste — is  intended  but  as  a  prepara 
tion  and  a  training  for  the  positions  you  are  to  occupy 
in  life,— but  to  enable  you  to  discharge  the  duties 
which  will  devolve  upon  you,  with  honor  to  yourselves 
and  with  benefit  to  your  country.  It  should  be  the 
great  moral  lesson  of  your  tuition  that  those  duties 
will  be  aggregated  and  enforced  by  the  advantages 
you  receive. 

The  Society,  within  whose  circle  we  are  now  met,  is 
purely  practical  in  its  objects.  As  Lovers  of  Wisdom, 
you  do  not  seek  merely  for  those  gratifications  that 
die  in  the  enjoyment, — or  for  incidents  to  variegate 
the  tedium  of  study.  Yours  is  no  "  Beefsteak  Club," 
or  "  King  of  Clubs," — such  as  the  dissipated  literati  of 
Europe  have  been  wont  to  encourage,  solely  to  stimu 
late  the  lassitude  of  the  senses.  Intellectual  and  moral 
improvement — improvement  of  those  faculties  which 
are  to  be  the  bones  and  sinews  of  mental  manhood — 
these  are  your  views.  Eloquence  and  Logic — that 
logic  which  can  always  unerringly  tell  right  from 
wrong,  through  all  ramifications  and  mysticism — and 
that  eloquence  which  can  present  the  deductions  of 


16  ORATIONS. 

the  intellect  or  the  emotions  of  the  heart,  in  a  manner 
at  once  clear,  cogent  and  pleasing — are  surely  objects 
worthy  the  attention  of  any  man,  however  utilitarian, 
whose  desire  is  to  be  anything  more  than  a  mere  ma 
chine  in  life. 

A  superficial  spectator  of  the  proceedings  of  this 
Anniversary  might  regard  them  but  as  the  constitu 
ents  of  some  transient  pageant.  Not  so  :  if  I  have 
read  aright  the  motives  which  have  brought  us  hither. 
Not  so :  unless  I  greatly  misappreciate  the  effects  of 
such  celebrations.  They  look  to  something  beyond 
the  mere  rhetoric  and  ceremonial  of  the  time.  They 
are  to  exercise  no  unimportant  influence,  as  they  are 
to  furnish  a  permanent  remembrance  for  your  future 
lives.  The  pomps  and  the  processions, — the  motley 
crowd,  with  the  sage  faces  of  manhood  and  the  smiling 
eyes  of  beauty — what  is  said  by  the  eloquent  represen 
tative  of  your  sister  society — and  even  what  is  uttered 
by  your  own  unworthy  speaker,  are  to  be  blended 
together,  and  are  to  pass  to  some  extent,  in  more  than 
one  instance,  into  the  composition  of  that  strange 
piece  of  mosaic  work — the  human  mind. 

These  considerations,  Gentlemen,  warn  me  that  it  is 
my  duty  to  endeavor  to  make  the  part  assigned  me  in 
the  festivity,  productive  of  some  practical  good.  With 
this  purpose  in  view, — with  the  recollection  that  I  am 
called  to  speak  in  the  high  cause  of  Letters  and  Mor 
als, — with  a  due  consideration  of  the  intellectual  em 
ployments  in  which  you  have  been,  hitherto,  engaged — 
of  those,  which,  are  hereafter,  to  occupy  your  atten 
tion,  and  of  that  theatre,  upon  which  it  is  your  destiny 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  17 

to  move,  not  as  mere  automata  in  a  show,  but  as 
intellectual  and  moral  agents,  around  each  of  whom  a 
circle  of  influence  is  to  be  diffused,  broader  or  narrower, 
according  to  your  own  self-formed  characters, — it  has 
appeared  to  me  that  there  is  no  subject  which  presents 
such  immediate  and  powerful  claims  upon  your  atten 
tion — the  strong  claims  of  practical  usefulness  and 
philosophic  dignity,  combined  at  the  same  time  with 
novelty  and  entertainment, — as  some  reflections  upon 
the  HISTORY,  CHARACTER,  AND  PROSPECTS  OF  THE 
SOUTHWEST — that  particular  portion  of  the  Union, 
in  which  it  has  pleased  a  beneficent  Providence,  to 
cast  your  lots,  and  to  the  improvement  of  whose  insti 
tutions,  and  the  developement  of  whose  resources,  it 
will  be  your  duty,  no  matter  what  professions  you  may 
pursue  in  life,  severally  to  contribute  your  parts.  It 
is  a  subject  too  in  which  the  audience  here  assembled 
to  witness  your  celebration,  have  as  great  an  interest 
as  you,  whether  considered  as  merely  intelligent  or  as 
operative  beings.  To  this  subject  I,  therefore,  respect 
fully  invite  your  attention,  and,  if  in  its  treatment  I 
should  appear  dull  and,  tedious,  I  beg  you  charitably 
to  think,  in  the  quaint  language  of  Selden,  in  his  pre 
face  to  Dray  ton's  Poly-Olbion,  "  that  it  is  not  so  much 
the  fault  of  him  that  speaketh,  or  of  the  subject  he 
handleth,  as  of  that  proclivitie  of  the  human  temper, 
to  be  aweary  of  that  which  is  instructive,  because  it 
seemeth  dry,  by  addressing  the  coolnesse  of  the  reason, 
rather  than  the  fervoure  of  the  fancie." 

When  the  rapt  prophet  of  olden  time  was  led  by  the 
hand  of  Divinity,  to  the  summit  of  the  sacred  moun- 


18  ORATIONS. 

tain,  and,  before  his  wonder-stricken  eyes,  the  rich 
territories  of  the  Promised  Land,  with  all  its  scenes  of 
magnificence  and  beauty,  its  tall  forests  undulating  to 
the  breezes  of  a  golden  summer,  its  inviting  vallies, 
•  with  their  intersecting  streams  and  embosomed  lakes, — 
the  blue  engirdling  mountains  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  flashing  sea  upon  the  other — all  spread  out  like 
some  great  breathing  picture — the  scene  presented,  and 
the  emotions  produced,  apart  from  the  holiness  of  their 
origin,  could  not  have  been  widely  different,  or  more 
inspiring,  than  would  have  met  the  eye  and  moved  the 
heart  of  an  intelligent  spectator,  if  he  could,  an  hun 
dred  years  ago,  have  been  placed  upon  some  eminence 
overlooking  the  whole  Southwest ;  and  all  its  magnifi 
cence,  its  fertility,  its  serene  beauty,  its  conveniences 
for  the  purposes  of  civilized  man,  have  been  presented 
to  his  mind's  eye  at  once.  Our  entire  country  has  been 
characterized  as  possessing  natural  advantages  superior 
to  any  other  part  of  the  world.  Bishop  Berkeley,  in 
that  celebrated  poem,  in  which  he  foretells  the  great 
ness  of  these  "  happy  climes/'  bases  his  prophecy  upon 
such  advantages,  and  tells  us  that,  here 

"  The  force  of  art,  by  nature,  seems  outdone, 
And  fancied  beauties  by  the  true  !" 

But  it  is  upon  our  section  of  the  Union  that  these 
blessings  are  most  amply  bestowed.  Beginning  upon 
the  eastern  border  of  our  State,  and  proceeding  west 
to  the  farthest  line  of  Louisiana,  we  pass  over  perhaps 
the  most  beautiful  and  fertile  region  that  the  sun  looks 
upon  in  his  diurnal  travel.  Its  territories  are  every- 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  19 

where,  and  in  every  direction,  irrigated  and  linked 
together  by  noble  and  navigable  rivers,  which  serve  not 
merely  to  fructify  the  soil,  but  to  convey  its  produc 
tions  to  safe  and  commodious  harbors.  Through  its 
western  portion,  that  mighty  stream,  called  in  the 
figurative  language  of  the  aborigines  of  this  country, 
The  Father  of  Waters,  after  passing  through  almost 
every  latitude,  and  demanding,  from  regions  well-nigh 
as  remote  from  each  other  "  as  Indus  from  the  pole/' 
the  tribute  of  their  fountains, — discharges  its  accumu 
lated  waters,  like  a  flowing  ocean,  into  the  Mediterra 
nean  of  America. 

This  whole  region  is  marked  by  a  fertility  of  soil 
almost  unparalleled.  Most  of  those  productions  of 
agriculture,  which  mainly  minister  to  the  wants  of 
man,  here  find  a  genial  home.  But  it  is  chiefly  in  the 
production  of  two  of  the  greatest  staples  of  commerce 
which,  by  the  by,  give  to  the  Southwest  one  of  its 
strongest  features  of  peculiarity,  that  this  mighty 
region  is  distinguished  :  the  Sugar  Cane,  on  the  one 
hand,  which  furnishes  a  necessary  beverage,  and  one  of 
the  greatest  luxuries  of  life,  for  countless  thousands, — 
and  the  Cotton  Plant,  on  the  other,  which  has  perhaps 
contributed  more  than  any  other  article  of  agriculture, 
to  advance  the  cause  of  civilization,  to  facilitate  and 
strengthen  the  pacific  intercourse  of  nations,  to  afford 
employment  and  subsistence  to  the  destitute,  to  recom 
pense  industry  with  opulence,  and  to  alleviate  the  ills 
which  are  the  inheritance  of  humanity. 

When  we  add  to  these  things,  the  blessings  of  a 
climate  which  is  always  genial  and  agreeable,  whether 


20  ORATIONS. 

viewed  in  the  regal  splendor  of  its  summer  days,  or  the 
milder  manifestations  of  its  moonlight  evenings  ;  which 
is  subject  to  little  of  that  oppressiveness  that  belongs 
to  those  lands  which  lie  directly  beneath  "the  path  of 
the  sun,  and  to  none  of  the  chilling  rigors  of  northern 
latitudes,  and  when  we  remember,  that  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  points  upon  the  seaboard,  "  the  wing 
of  life's  best  angel,  Health,  is  ever  on  the  breeze/' — 
we  have  a  correct  idea  of  the  physical  characteristics 
of  that  section  of  the  Union  in  which  we  reside. 

The  name  of  the  SOUTHWEST,  with  a  certain  sec- 
tionality  of  character  corresponding  thereto,  is  given 
to  this  portion  of  the  Confederacy — embracing  the 
States  of  Alabama,  Mississippi  and  Louisiana — from 
this  pervading  similarity  of  physical  condition;  from 
its  geographical  position  upon  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  in 
to  which  all  its  waters  discharge  themselves;  from 
the  pursuits  of  its  population,  with  their  resulting 
moral  and  intellectual  peculiarities;  and  to  some  ex 
tent,  from  the  unity  and  unique  character  of  its  early 
history.  To  some  considerations  upon  the  character 
of  that  History,  let  me  now,  Gentlemen,  direct  your 
attention. 

The  early  annals  of  almost  every  country,  particu 
larly  of  the  States  of  antiquity,  is  involved  in  impene 
trable  obscurity.  To  account  for  their  origin,  they 
are  compelled  to  resort  to  the  dim  lights  of  some  be 
wildered  tradition,  or,  as  in  the  case  of  that  mightiest 
demonstration  of  political  power  of  the  olden  world — 
"  the  Demon  City,"  as  she  has  been  called  by  Herder 
• — to  create  some  wild  fiction,  which  comes  well  nigh 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  2i 

blending  the  incipients  of  their  greatness  with  the  de 
pravity  of  a  brutal  connection.  In  vain  has  the  lumi 
nous  pencil  of  Livy,  or  the  glowing  pictures  of  the 
scholar  of  Halicarnassus,  over  whose  immortal  pro 
duction  the  nine  Muses  are  said  specially  to  have  pre 
sided,  endeavored  to  throw  around  their  primeval  con 
dition  the  colorings  of  historic  truth.  All  is  vague 
uncertainty  or  distorting  gloom.  Not  so  with  the 
early  history  of  the  American  States.  Their  founda 
tions  were  wrought  in  the  broad  light  of  an  illumina 
ted  age,  and  their  story  has  passed  with  all  its  truth 
ful  lineaments,  into  the  possession  of  "the  preserving 
page."  And  yet  to  this  general  and  enobling  certain 
ty  there  is  one  important  exception.  I  mean  the  early 
history  of  those  States  encircling  the-  northern  shores 
of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  Differing  widely  from  the 
character  of  the  European  adventurers  who  first  dis 
covered  and  took  possession  of  this  territory;  the 
memorials  of  whose  settlements,  progress,  enterprises 
and  intercourse  with  the  natives,  commercial,  military 
and  religious,  are  scattered  through  the  rare  and  an  • 
tiquated  volumes  of  two  foreign  languages;  and  pos 
sessing  but  little  sympathy  for  a  race  so  diverse  from 
their  own,  in  manners,  customs  and  institutions,  and 
who,  it  is  believed,  have  exercised  no  influence  upon 
the  character  and  destiny  of  our  country;  the  people 
of  the  United  States  have  silently  assented  to  the  be 
hests  of  their  historians,  and  have  permitted  these 
things  to  be  forgotten.  Even  that  population,  which 
now  fill  the  places  once  held  by  the  French  and  the 
Spanish,  know  little  or  nothing  of  their  history,  and 


22  ORATIONS. 

ever  and  anon,  as  they  stumble  over  some  of  the  relics 
of  these  vanished  dwellers  of  our  territories,  the  cry 
of  eureka  is  raised;  the  "curiosity"  becomes  a  nine- 
days'  wonder;  and  is  perhaps,  in  the  end,  transmitted 
to  the  Museum  of  your  University,  as  a  specimen  of 
Indian  art.  To  dissipate  this  ignorance  scarcely  any 
thing  has  been  done.  A  few  general  facts,  as  in  the 
pages  of  Bancroft  and  Eamsey,  have  been  collected 
and  given  to  the  world,  and  that  is  all.  The  whole 
history  of  the  Southwest  remains  to  be  written. 
And  whoever  shall  go  to  the  work  philosophically,— 
who  shall  delve,  amid  their  quaint  and  musty  tomes,  for 
the  records  of  French  and  Spanish  colonization  and 
settlement;  and  shall  collect  and  embody  the  scattered 
materials  for  such  a  history;  apart  from  conferring  a 
permanent  benefit  upon  the  literature  of  his  country, 
will  possess  the  honor  of  being  like  Coleridge's  Ancient 
Mariner,  when  entering  the  Pacific,  well  nigh 


The  first  that  ever  burst 


Into  that  silent  sea  !" 

Having  frequently,  Gentlemen,  in  the  course  of  a 
miscellaneous  reading, — under  the  belief  that  there  is 
no  merely  theoretical  knowledge,  which  it  is  more  cred 
itable  to  a  man  to  possess,  than  the  history  of  his  own 
country,  and  with  the  conviction  that,  if — as  Lord 
Bolingbroke  has  told  us — "History  is  Philosophy  teach 
ing  by  example,"  that  philosophy  can  be  best  learned 
from  those  pages  which  show  us  man  in  his  most  indi 
vidual  capacity,  and  under  the  most  novel  and  strik 
ing  phases  of  existence;  directed  my  attention  to  this 


THE   SOUTHWEST.  23 

but  partially  explored  field  of  Southwestern  history; 
I  may  be  enabled  to  point  out,  for  your  future  inves 
tigation  and  improvement,  some  of  its  more  prominent 
and  interesting  features.  The  present  occasion,  how 
ever,  will  permit  us  but  to  take  a  hurried  and  super 
ficial  glance  at  fhe  subject.  Such  a  glance  will  suffice 
to  show  its  peculiar  and  romantic  character,  and  the 
rich  fund  of  historic  materials  which  lie  all  unappro 
priated  and  daily  perishing.  For  the  sake  of  order 
and  conciseness,  we  will  pursue  the  natural  divisions 
of  the  subject  into  general  periods. 

I.  Two  hundred  and  ninety-nine  years  ago, — near  a 
century  before  the  Pilgrims  had  landed  at  Plymouth, 
or  the  Cavaliers  at  Jamestown,  and  within  fifty  years 
of  the  discovery  of  the  continent  by  Columbus, — upon 
an  extensive  plain,  near  the  junction  of  two  of  our 
principal  rivers,  in  the  very  heart  of  this  State,  might 
have  been  seen  collected  two  large  and  hostile  armies. 
One  of  them  is  composed  of  the  native  dwellers  in  the 
surrounding  forests,  to  the  number  of  ten  thousand, 
painted  and  plumed  and  armed,  according  to  their 
immemorial  customs.  The  other,  though  smaller  in 
number,  presents  the  more  regular  appearance,  and 
powerful  implements  of  European  warfare.  They  are 
engaged  in  deadly  battle.  For  hours  they  fight  hand 
to  hand,  with  all  the  fury  of  demons.  At  length  the 
savage  hordes  are  driven  back  by  the  more  systematic 
valor  of  their  opponents.  They  fly  for  refuge  to  a 
city  which  appears  in  the  back  ground  of  the  picture. 
Here  they  are  pursued;  the  walls  broken  down;  and 
amidst  the  flames  of  their  dwellings — the  shrieks  of 


24  ORATIONS. 

their  women  and  children — the  fury  of  their  assailants 
— this  mighty  army  is  unsparingly  destroyed. 

Is  this  a  picture  of  fancy?  The  historic  page  tells 
us  that  in  the  year  1539,  Hernando  de  Soto,  a  Cava 
lier  of  Spain,  after  landing  in  Florida,  with  an  army 
of  one  thousand  select  soldiers,  proceeded  north 
through  the  territory  of  Georgia  Centered  Alabama  at 
its  north  eastern  extremity;  descended  along  the 
banks  of  the  Coosa,  to  its  junction  with  the  Talla- 
poosa;  crossed  the  latter  stream;  proceeded  west 
along  the  banks  of  the  Alabama;  crossed  it  about 
fifty  miles  above  its  junction  with  the  Tombeckbe, 
and  there,  on  the  18th  of  October,  1540,  fought  the 
battle  of  Mobile  with  the  natives,  headed  by  their 
Chieftain  Tuscaloosa.  For  the  length  of  its  continu 
ance,  the  desperate  character  of  the  contest,  the  hor 
rors  of  its  details,  and  the  numbers  slain  upon  both 
sides,  this  was  by  far  the  most  bloody  battle  ever 
fought  upon  the  soil  of  the  United  States.  After  re 
maining  several  weeks  near  Mobile,  De  Soto  proceeded 
to  the  north,  crossed  the  Black  Warrior  not  far  south 
of  the  spot  at  which  we  are  now  assembled,  and  con 
tinued  his  course  into  the  State  of  Mississippi,  where 
he  spent  the  winter.  With  the  natives  he  fought 
many  other  desperate  battles.  Subsequently  he  dis 
covered  the  Mississippi  river,  and  made  several  exten 
sive  expeditions  into  the  regions  beyond  it.  Through 
out  the  whole  of  this  strange  pilgrimage,  to  which  he 
was  incited  by  motives  of  avarice,  combined  with  the 
love  of  conquest,  he  encountered  dangers  and  en 
dured  difficulties  which  have  no  parallel  save  in  the 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  25 

annals  of  Mexican  and  Peruvian  conquest.  At  length, 
overcome  by  fatigue,  dissappointed  in  his  hopes,  his 
forces  half  destroyed  by  perpetual  battles,  famine  and 
disease — he  died  of  a  broken  heart,  and  was  buried  in 
the  middle  of  that  mighty  stream  which  he  had  been 
the  first  white  man  to  cross.  Thus,  in  the  lan^ua^e 

o       o 

of  the  most  philosophic  of  American  historians, 
"  the  discoverer  of  the  Mississippi  slept  beneath  its 
waters.  He  had  crossed  the  greater  part  of  the  con 
tinent  in  search  of  gold,  and  found  nothing  so  remark 
able  as  his  burial  place!" 

This  romantic  expedition  furnishes,  in  its  details, 
one  of  the  most  interesting  chapters  in  American  his 
tory;  and,  in  its  whole  inception,  progress  and  denoue 
ment,  appears  more  like  a  creation  of  fancy  than  a 
series  of  events  in  actual  life.  The  authenticity  and 
correctness  of  the  accounts  concerning  it,  are,  however, 
well  established;  and  we  are  justified  in  considering  it 
the  prologue,  as  well  as  the  first  period,  of  South 
western  History. 

II.  By  this  Expedition, — which  is  known  in  her 
annals  as  "  The  Conquest  of  Florida" — Spain  consid 
ered  that  she  had  acquired  a  right  to  the  whole  North 
American  Continent.  Her  attempts  to  take  possession 
of  it  were,  however,  few  and  far  between.  They  were 
principally  confined  to  the  settlement  of  East  Florida, 
and  were  interrupted  by  the  interference  of  France,  . 
whose  emissaries,  in  the  long  period  from  1562  to 
1698 — which  we  shall  denominate  the  second  era  of 
Southwestern  History, — had  explored  the  Mississippi 
River,  taken  possession  of  the  country  under  the  name 


26  ORATIONS. 

of  Louisiana,  and  had  pushed  their  way  as  missiona 
ries  and  traders  among  most  of  the  native  tribes  of 
the  interior.  In  the  latter  part  of  this  period,  occur 
red  the  celebrated  expedition  of  Lasalle,  into  the  ter 
ritory  now  the  Kepublic  of  Texas,  by  virtue  of  which, 
our  government  long  subsequently  laid  claim  to  the 
soil,  based  upon  the  French  right,  as  far  as  the  Rio 
del  Norte.  The  correspondence,  which  ensued  be 
tween  Mr.  Adams,  our  then  Secretary  of  State,  and 
M.  De  Onis,  the  Spanish  minister,  gives  the  general 
outline  of  this  ill-starred  expedition,  which  in  its  de 
tails  was  well  nigh  as  romantic  as  that  of  De  Soto. 
The  incidents  of  this  period  constitute  an  important 
part  of  Southwestern  history,  but  as  they  have  been 
generally  recorded,  we  need  not  farther  allude  to  them, 
than  to  say  that  in  1693,  Spain  took  possession  of 
West  Florida,  laid  the  foundation  of  Pensacola,  and 
established  a  brisk  trade  with  the  Alabamon  and 
Chickasaw  Indians. 

III.  The  third  general  division  of  Southwestern 
History  extends  from  1698  to  1768,  a  period  of  seventy 
years.  It  is  the  era  of  French  colonization  and  settle 
ments;  and,  while  it  is  the  most  interestmo1  and  im- 

'  '  O 

portant,  is  that  portion  of  our  history  of  which  least 
is  known.  The  materials  for  a  correct  account,  al 
though  they  exist  in  the  rare  volumes  of  a  foreign 
tongue,  are,  however,  abundant  and  accessible.  From 
them  it  appears  that  this  period  is  naturally  subdi 
vided  into  four  parts : 

1.  The  first  extends  from  1698  to  1713.  During  this 
time,  Iberville,  an  officer  of  the  King  of  France,  un- 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  27 

der  the  direction  of  his  monarch,  who  was  anxious  to 
reduce  Louisiana  into  possession,  bought  out  a  colony 
of  some  three  hundred  individuals,  and,  in  1699,  made 
settlements  upon  Dauphin  Island,  in  the  present 
limits  of  Alabama,  and  at  the  Bay  of  Biloxi,  now  in 
the  State  of  Mississippi.  He  immediately  commenced 
an  intercourse  with  the  natives  of  the  interior — who 
consisted,  he  found,  of  numerous  tribes  calling  them 
selves,  Alibarnons,  Choctaws,  Mobiles,  Chickasaws, 
&c. ;  and  who  had  already  been  visited  by  traders  and 
missionaries,  from  the  Spaniards  in  Florida,  and  the 
English  in  Carolina.  After  building  a  fort  upon  the 
Mississippi  River,  he  returned  to  France,  leaving  his 
brother,  Bienyillej  Governoii^of  the  colony.  He,  in 
1702,  built  a  fort  upon  Mobile  Bay,  aTtew  miles  below 
the  site  of  our  present  flourishing  emporium,  and  re 
moved  to  it  the  head-quarters  of  the  colony — where  it 
remained  until  1711,  when  in  consequence  of  an  in 
undation  in  the  spring,  it  was  removed  to  the  pre 
sent  site  of  the  city,  and  Fort  Louis,  whose  ruins  are 
yet  to  be  seen,  was  built.  Throughout  the  whole  of 
this  period,  the  colonists  were  engaged  in  violent  wars 
with  the  neighboring  tribes, — particularly  the  Aliba- 
mons;  and,  in  the  latter  part  of  it,  with  the  English 
of  Carolina, — the  parent  countries  at  that  time  being 
;it  war.  They  suffered  frequently  from  disease;  and 
in  1705,  the  dread  visitant,  which  has  recently  made 
such  terrible  havoc  upon  the  same  devoted  spot,  made 
its  first  appearance  in  the  colony,  and  carried  off  thir 
ty-Jive  of  the  inhabitants.  Nevertheless,  the  colonists 
carried  on  a  considerable  trade  with  the  natives,  in 


28  ORATIONS. 

peltries  and  furs,  which  they  sent  to  France.  To 
agriculture  they  paid  little  or  no  attention.  The  pop 
ulation  of  the  colony,  which  at  the  close  of  this  period 
resided  principally  at  Mobile  and  on  Dauphin  Island, 
amounted  to  three  hundred  and  eighty  individuals. 

2.  The  second  subdivision  of  the  period  of  French 
colonization  and  government  in  the  Southwest,  em 
braces  but  four  years,  but  is  full  of  interesting  adven 
ture.  In  1713,  the  officers  of  Orozat,  a  rich  merchant 
of  Paris,  to  whom  the  King  had  given  a  charter  of  the 
Colony,  took  possession;  and  Lamotte  Cadillac  be 
came  Governor.  Under  this  charter,  the  population 
was  greatly  increased  by  emigration  from  France,  and 
military  posts  were  established  along  the  banks  of  the 
Mississippi  and  in  the  interior.  In  1714,  a  military 
establishment,  called  Fort  Toulouse,  with  a  colonial 
settlement,  was  made  upon  the  head  waters  of  the 
Alabama,  at  the  junction  of  the  Coosa  and  Tallapoo- 
sa,  near  which  Fort  Jackson  was  erected  in  1812,  by 
the  American  troops.  Some  of  the  evidences  of  this 
settlement  may  yet  be  found,  though  they  who  built, 
like  the  native  tribe  who  assisted — then  called  "  the 
Alibamons" — have  long  since  passed  away.  Several 
other  establishments  were,  about  the  same  time,  made 
in  the  interior  of  this  State  and  of  Mississippi.  An 
old  map  locates  one  upon  the  Tombeckbe,  another 
upon  the  head  waters  of  the  Yazoo,  and  a  third  upon 
the  Tennessee,  then  called  the  Cherokee  river. 

Crozat,  disappointed  in  his  hopes  of  profit  from 
commerce  with  the  Indians,  and  harassed  by  the  con 
tinual  wars  which  he  was  compelled  to  carry  on  with 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  29 

them,  particularly  against  the  Chickasaws — in  1717 
surrendered  his  charter  to  the  King.  He  left  the 
colony  but  little  improved,  save  by  the  increase  of 
population,  which  now  amounted  to  near  eight  hun 
dred  inhabitants. 

3.  From  1718  to  1732 — a  period  of  fourteen  years 
— the  colony  was  under  the  government  of  a  chartered 
association  called  the  "Western  Company/'  and  Bien- 
ville  was  reinstated  as  Governor,  much  to  the  delight 
of  the  inhabitants.  This  period  is  marked  by  a  great  in 
crease  of  population ;  an  extension  of  settlements  into 
Louisiana  and  Mississippi ;  the  foundation  of  New 
Orleans  ;  a  violent  war  with  the  Spanish  in  West 
Florida;  the  capture  of  Pensacola;  an  attack  by  the 
Spaniards  upon  Dauphin  Island  and  Mobile;  the  di 
vision  of  the  country  into  nine  ecclesiastical  districts, 
for  the  purposes  of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion,  which 
was  exclusively  established;  the  dissemination  of 
priests  and  friars  among  all  the  Indian  tribes;  the  first 
serious  attention  to  agriculture,  by  the  colonists,  in 
the  cultivation  of  indigo,  rice  and  tobacco;  the  intro 
duction  of  large  numbers  of  slaves  brought  from  the 
coast  of  Africa;  numerous  bloody  wars  among  the  In 
dian  tribes;  a  combination  of  several  of  these  tribes 
against  the  colonists  ;  and  finally,  the  terrible  and 
relentless  destruction  of  the  once  powerful  and  almost 
semi-civilized  tribe  of  the  Natchez,  by  Perrier.  who  in 
1726  had  succeeded  Bienville  as  Governor.  We  can 
but  thus  barely  allude  to  all  these  importart  iricid  nts. 
Cue  or  two  events  of  a  less  general  charactei  may  serve 
to  show  the  condition  and  spirit  of  affairs  in  the  colony. 


30  ORATIONS. 

In  1722;  the  colony  at  Fort  Toulouse,  upon  the 
head  waters  of  the  Alabama,  was  disturbed  by  a  mu 
tiny  among  the  soldiers.  Twenty-six  rose  in  arms 
against  Marchand,  the  commander,  and  forcing  their 
way  out  of  the  fort,  departed  for  the  English  settle 
ments  in  Carolina.  Yillemont,  the  second  in  com 
mand,  immediately  collected  a  large  force  of  the  Ali- 
barnon  Indians,  and,  with  them  and  the  balance  of  the 
troops,  pursued  the  fugitives.  They  were  overtaken 
near  the  Chattahooche  river,  and,  after  a  brief  but 
bloody  engagement,  were,  with  the  exception  of  eight 
prisoners,  mercilessly  massacred.  These  prisoners 
were  taken  back  to  the  Fort,  and  thence  to  Mobile, 
where  they  were  publicly  executed.  One  of  them,  be 
longing  to  a  corps  of  hired  Swiss,  was  put  to  death 
according  to  their  bloody  military  rules.  He  was 
placed  alive  in  a  coffin,  and  his  body  was  sawed  in  two 
with  a  cross-cut  saw. 

Another  incident  which  occurred  during  this  period, 
casts  a  softening  shadow  of  romance  over  the  rude  life 
of  the  colonists,  and  would  afford,  in  connection  with 
the  time,  the  groundwork  for  a  highly  imaginative 
novel. 

Among  a  company  of  German  colonists,  who  arrived 
at  Mobile,  in  1721,  there  came  a  female  adventurer,  of 
great  personal  beauty,  high  accomplishments,  and  evi 
dently  possessed  of  much  wealth.  It  was  generally 
believed,  as  she  herself  represented,  that  she  was  the 
daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Wolfenbuttle,  and  the  wife 
of  the  Czarowitz  Alexius  Peter,  the  only  son  of  Peter 
the  Great,  and  that  being  cruelly  treated  by  her  hus- 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  31 

band,  she  had  fled  from  him,  for  refuge  in  these  far 
colonies,  while  he  represented  that  she  was  dead.  This 
belief  was  confirmed  by  the  Chevalier  d'Aubant,  who 
having  seen  the  princess  at  St.  Petersburg^,  recognized 
her  features  in  the  new  comer;  and,  upon  the  strength 
of  his  opinion,  formed  a  matrimonial  alliance  with  the 
repudiated  wife.  After  many  years'  residence  in  the 
colony,  with  all  the  style  of  a  court, — the  Chevalier 
went  to  Paris  with  his  princess.  Here,  for  some  time, 
her  story  obtained  general  credit,  and  it  was  not  till 
after  the  death  of  her  husband,  that  she  was  discov 
ered  to  be  an  impostor.  It  was  now  proved  that  the 
pretended  arch-duchess  was  only  an  humble  female, 
who,  having  been  attached  to  the  wardrobe  of  the 
princess  of  Kussia,  had  robbed  her  of  large  quantities 
of  jewelry  and  gold, -and  had  fled  to  America.  By  a 
similarity  of  appearance  with  her  mistress,  she  im 
posed  upon  the  credulity  of  a  young  officer,  who  lived 
in  splendor  upor  her  ill-gotten  wealth,  and  died  in 
blissful  ignorance  of  the  truth  of  her  history. 

The  " Western  Company"  in  1732,  surrendered 
their  charter  to  the  king.  A  few  years  previously  they 
had  removed  the  seat  of  government  to  New  Orleans, 
though  the  principal  business  was  yet  transacted  at 
Mobile.  The  population  of  the  colony  now  amounted 
to  over  five  thousand  white  inhabitants  and  two  thou 
sand  slaves. 

4.  The  fourth  and  last  period  of  French  govern 
ment  in  the  Southwest  extends  from  1732  to  1768, 
when  France  became  dispossessed  of  every  inch  of 
ground  in  North  America.  The  most  interesting  inci- 


32  ORATIONS. 

dent  of  the  first  part  of  this  era,  is  an  expedition  made 
against  the  Chickasaw  Indians,  by  Bienville,  who  had 
been  re-appointed  Governor  by  the  King.  These  In 
dians  had  made  many  hostile  depredations  upon  the 
settlements  around  Mobile,  and  upon  the  Mississippi, 
and  had  refused  to  deliver  up  a  party  of  the  Natchez, 
who,  after  the  massacre,  had  taken  refuge  among  them. 
Determining  to  punish  their  audacity,  and  to  quell 
them  for  all  future  time,  Bienville,  in  the  spring  of 
1736,  left  Mobile  with  an  army  of  fifteen  hundred 
troops,  with  all  the  implements  and  provisions  of  war. 
The  greater  part  of  the  forces  ascended  the  river  upon 
its  western  bank.  The  baggage,  artillery  and  pro 
visions  were  transported  in  boats.  On  the  twentieth 
of  April,  he  reached  a  fort,  which  he  had  caused  to  be 
built  a  short  time  before,  on  the  west  bank  of  the 
Tombeckbe  river,  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  above 
Mobile,  and  to  which  the  appellation  of  "Fort  Tom 
beckbe"  had  been  given.  Here  he  was  joined  by 
twelve  hundred  Choctaw  warriors,  who  had  been  en 
gaged  for  the  expedition.  With  this  formidable  army, 
he  was  twenty  days  ascending  the  Tombeckbe,  to  the 
point  at  which  Cotton  Gin  Port  now  stands.  Here, 
finding  his  artillery  difficult  of  transportation,  and 
deeming  it  unnecessary,  he  erected  a  temporary  forti 
fication,  in  which  lie  placed  it  with  a  company  of  sol 
diers.  The  village,  in  which  the  Chickasaws  were 
collected,  was  distant  twenty  miles.  This  Bienville 
reached  on  the  morning  of  the  twenty-sixth  of  May, 
and  immediately  invested.  It  was  found  to  be  en 
tirely  surrounded  by  strong  pallisades,  constructed  of 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  33 

large  trees,  and  was  filled  by  an  immense  number  of 
warriors.  From  several  English  flags,  displayed  over 
the  village,  evidence  was  given  that  the  Chickasaws 
were  headed  by  traders  from  Carolina.  An  immediate 
assault  was  made  upon  the  fortifications,  by  the  whole 
army  ;  but  they  were  found  impregnable.  Though  the 
most  desperate  valor  was  exhibited  by  the  troops,  and 
though  they  made  repeated  attempts  to  storm  particular 
points,  which  seemed  most  exposed,  they  were  continu 
ally  repulsed  with  great  loss.  The  well  directed  fire 
of  the  besieged  mowed  down  the  assailants,  and, 
amidst  their  war-cries  and  firing,  they  jeered  them  with 
impotency  and  cowardice.  After  continuing  his  efforts 
until  the  close  of  the  day,  and  finding  them  all  in 
effectual,  Bienville,  with  thirty  killed — among  whom 
were  four  of  his  principal  officers — and  over  seventy 
badly  wounded,  commenced  a  hasty  retreat.  This  he 
continued  for  three  miles,  and  encamped  for  the  night. 
The  next  day  he  returned  to  his  fortifications  upon  the 
Tombeckbe.  His  Choctaw  allies  here  abandoned  him; 
and,  embarking  his  troops  upon  his  boats,  he  floated 
down  the  river  to  Mobile.  Before  embarking  however, 
he  threw  his  cannon  into  the  Tombeckbe.  Some  of 
these  were  found  a  few  years  since,  near  Cotton  Gin, 
and  were  said  by  the  pseudo-literati  of  Mississippi — 
who,  in  their  wisdom,  perhaps  had  never  heard  of 
Bienville, — to  be  relics  of  De  Soto's  expedition  ! 

This  unfortunate  campaign,  in  its  whole  conduct 
and  termination,  partakes  largely  of  the  spirit  of  ro 
mance.  One,  who,  like  your  speaker,  has  ascended  the 
sinuous  windings  of  the  Tombeckbe,  or  traveled 


34  OKATIONS. 

through  the  quiet  forests  and  blooming  prairies  of 
upper  Mississippi,  can  scarcely  realize  that  their  peace 
ful  solitudes  have  ever  been  broken  by  scenes  like  these. 
And  yet,  if  some  day,  as  he  is  riding  through  those 
regions,  he  will  throw  his  bridle  upon  the  neck  of  his 
horse,  and  look  around  him,  he  will  find  vistages  of  the 
Frenchman's  Visit  visible  in  more  places  than  one. 

After  Bienville's  return  from  this  expedition,  he 
applied  himself,  for  some  years,  to  the  improvement 
of  the  colony,  in  agriculture  and  commerce  with  the 
West  Indies.  In  1740  however,  he  prepared  another 
and  a  more  powerful  expedition  against  the  Chicka- 
saws.  With  it  he  ascended  the  Mississippi  river  and 
the  Yazoo,  and  succeeded  in  bringing  them  to  terms. 
He  then  resigned  the  Governorship  of  the  Colony,  and 
returned  to  France. 

The  remainder  of  this  period  of  French  history,  is 
replete  with  interesting  details.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that 
under  the  government,  first,  of  the  Marquis  of  Vau- 
dreuil,  and  then,  of  General  Kelerec,  the  colony  contin 
ued  to  flourish  to  an  extent,  previously  unprecedented: 
the  cultivation  of  the  sugar  cane  was  commenced  in 
1751 ;  and  some  attention  paid  even  to  those  arts 
which  refine  and  embellish  life. 

France  being  worsted  in  the  war,  which  she  had 
been  carrying  on  with  England,  by  a  secret  treaty  in 
1762,  ceded  all  her  possessions  west  of  the  Mississippi, 
with  New  Orleans,  to  the  crown  of  Spain;  and  in  the 
next  year  all  the  balance  to  the  King  of  England. 
She  thus  became  dispossessed  of  all  her  right  to  the  soil 
of  North  America;  though  she  continued  in  possession 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  35 

of  Western  Louisiana,  until  1768,  when  the  Spanish 
officers  took  possession. 

I Y.  The  fourth  general  division  of  Southwestern  His 
tory  may  be  said  to  extend  through  a  period  of  thirty- 
nine  years — from  1764  to  1803 — when  Louisiana  passed 
into  the  possession  of  the  United  States.  Of  this 
period  I  have  time  barely  to  say  that  it  is  divided  into 
three  distinct  parts  :  the  one  extending  to  1783,  and 
embracing  the  British  Government  in  West  Florida, 
and  over  the  whole  of  that  part  of  the  present  States 
of  Alabama  and  Mississippi,  south  of  the  thirty-third 
degree  of  north  latitude; — another  comprising  the 
Spanish  government  of  Louisiana  during  the  whole 
period,  and  of  West  Florida  from  1782;  and  the  third, 
commencing  in  1783,  of  the  United  States,  over  all 
the  country  east  of  the  Mississippi,  and  north  of  the 
thirty-first  degree  of  latitude.  This  era  is  teeming  with 
rich  historic  materials,  whether  we  look  to  those 
events  which  go  to  the  building  of  States,  or  to  those 
lesser  things  which  serve  to  illustrate  man  in  his 
individual  and  social  capacity.  I  cannot  linger  with 
them  but  must  proceed  to  the  fifth  period  of  our  his 
tory. 

V.  This  extends  from  1803  to  1819— when  the  last 
of  the  States,  now  composing  the  Southwest,  passed 
into  the  Federal  sisterhood.  It  is,  perhaps,  as  far  as 
we  are  concerned,  the  most  interesting  era  of  our 
history  :  embracing,  as  it  does,  the  first  settlement  of 
this  vast  region  by  the  pioneers  of  the  population  who 
now  possess  it, — the  thrilling  incidents  of  the  "Last 
War,"  with  the  powerful  Indian  tribes  of  our  State — 


36  ORATIONS. 

with  the  Spaniards  in  West  Florida,  and  with,  the 
British  before  Mobile  and  New  Orleans;  and  the  estab 
lishment  of  those  municipal  institutions,  under  whose 
benign  protection  we  live,  and  in  the  blessed  light  of 
whose  influence  we  are  this  day  assembled.  An  ex 
amination  of  this  period  will  show  us,  what  I  believe  is 
most  generally  overlooked,  that  the  foundations  of  our 
own  State  particularly,  were  not  effected  by  the  tran 
quil  course  of  peaceful  emigration,  but  were  wrought 
and  consecrated  through  a  bitter  sacrament  of  blood. 
Such  an  examination  is  not  now  permitted.  The 
materials  for  a  correct  history  of  their  time  have  never 
been  collected.  You  will  find  them  in  the  scattered 
records  of  our  country,  and  among  the  perishing  tra 
ditions  of  our  older  inhabitants.  In  the  Western 
States  they  have  set  us  an  example,  in  regard  to  this 
matter,  which  we  should  patriotically  imitate.  What 
Flint,  Hall,  Drake,  Marshall,  Butler,  and  many  others 
have  done  for  the  States  bordering  upon  the  Ohio — at 
the  same  time  that  they  have  pursued  honest  and 
reputable  vocations — among  which  the  present  temper 
of  these  Hesperian  longitudes,  in  the  superlative  pos 
session  of  that  species  of  wisdom  which  belonged  to  the 
friends  of  Job,  does  not  seem  to  consider  exclusively 
literary  occupations, — will  not  some  of  you,  Gentlemen, 
in  your  hours  of  recreation  in  after  life  from  more 
practical  purposes,  perform  for  the  Southwest  ? 

Only  two  circumstances  in  this  period,  will  your 
time  permit  me  to  mention.  Printing — which  always 
marks  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  a  State — was  com 
menced  in  Mississippi,  by  the  publication  of  a  news- 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  37 

paper  at  Natchez,  in  1809.  The  first  paper  ever 
printed  in  Alabama,  was,  the  "  Madison  Gazette,  " 
,  started  in  Huntsville  in  1812.  Another  was  begun  at 
St.  Stephens,  in  ISIG,  by  Thomas  Eastin.  It  was 
not  inappropriately  called  "  The  Halcyon," — and  like 
its  fabled  prototype,  no  doubt,  had  much  influence  in 
softening  the  rude  turbulence  of  the  times. 

The  other  circumstance,  to  which  I  allude,  consti 
tutes  an  interesting  chapter  in  the  history  of  our  own 
State;  and,  as  it  has  never  been  written,  and  is,  in  all 
its  features,  tinctured  with  the  attractiveness  of  ro 
mance,  I  will  briefly  present  it  to  your  view.  I  mean 
the  history  of  the  FRENCH  COLONY,  which  settled  in 
Marengo,  in  1817. 

The  overthrow  of  Napoleon  was  followed  by  the 
expatriation  of  many  thousands  of  those  who  had 
been  the  most  conspicious  main  tamers  of  his  colossal 
power.  Of  these  a  large  number  came  to  the  United 
States.  Among  them  were  generals,  who  had  won 
laurels  in  the  proudest  fields  of  European  valor,  and 
assisted  in  the  dethronement  and  coronation  of  monarchs 
over  millions  of  subjects;  and  ladies  who  had  figured 
in  the  voluptuous  drawing  rooms  of  St.  Cloud,  and 
glittered  in  the  smiles  and  favor  of  Josephine  and  of 
Marie  Antoinette.  With  the  irrepressible  enthusiasm  of 
their  nation,  they  thought  to  find,  in  the  quietude  and 
peace  of  our  boundless  forests,  an  Arcadian  exchange 
for  the  aristocratical  establishments  and  gilded  saloons 
of  Paris.  They  wished  to  dwell  together,  and  to  form  a 
miniature  republic  of  their  own,  subject  however  to  the 
same  laws  as  other  citizens  of  the  Union.  Accordingly 


38  ORATIONS. 

they  petitioned  Congress,  to  grant  them  a  portion  of 
the  public  domain  in  the  Southwest.     This  was  done 
by  an  act  of  March  the  3d,  1817,  granting  to  them 
four  townships  of  land,  to  be  selected  by  them  some 
where  in  the  territory  of  Alabama.     The  conditions  of 
the  grant  were  that  the  emigrants    should  cultivate 
the  Vine  upon  one  acre  in  each  quarter  section,  and 
the  Olive  upon  another  other  ;  and  at  the  end  of  .four 
teen  years  should  pay  the  General  Government  two 
dollars  an  acre,   for  a   fee-simple  title   to   the   land. 
Among  the  grantees  were  Marshal  Grouchy,  the  hero 
of  Linden,  and  the  present  Minister  of  War  for  France ; 
General  Lefebvre   Desnouettes,   Lieutenant  General, 
who    had    distinguished    himself   in    all    the    great 
battles  of  Napoleon;  General  Count  Clausel,  General 
Count  Real,  the  two  Generals  L'Allemand,  and  Gen 
erals   Vandamme,    Lakanal,    Penniers,    and    Gamier 
de  Saintes;  with  a  number  of  other  subordinate  officers, 
whose  names  are  among  the  composing  stars  of  that 
galaxy  of  greatness  which  encircled  the  "  Sun  of  the 
Sleepless  !  "     Under  the  direction  of  these  men,  the 
location  of  the  colony  was  made  upon  the  Tombeckbe 
river,  in  what  is  now  the  county  of  Marengo.     During 
the  year,  emigrants,  to  near  the  number  of  four  hun 
dred,  arrived,  and  took  possession  of  the  soil — which 
was  portioned  among  them  by  lottery.     They  however 
did    not    disperse   to   any   great   extent  though   the 
country,  but  principally  settled  down  in  two  villages  ; 
the   one  called  Demopolis,    upon  the  site  where  the 
village  with  the  same  name  now  stands;  and  the  other 
called  Eaglesville,  situated  upon   the  Black  Warrior 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  39 

river,  a  short  distance  above  Demopolis.  In  this  latter 
village  several  of  the  distinguished  men  I  have  named 
resided.  Upon  the  Colony  they  bestowed  the  name  of 
Marengo,  which  is  still  preserved  in  the  county.  Other 
relics  of  their  nomenclature, — -drawn,  similarly,  from 
battles  in  which  some  of  them  had  been  distinguished 
— are  to  be  found  in  the  villages  of  Linden  and  Arcola. 
In  the  spring,  after  their  emigration,  they  proceeded 
to  the  cultivation  of  the  soil,  and  were  soon  settled 
down  in  the  occupations  of  agricultural  life. 

A  more  singular  spectacle  than  the  one  thus  presen 
ted  is  rarely  to  be  found  in  the  leaves  of  history.  It 
is  true  that  Cincinnatus,  when  he  had  saved  Home 
from  the  irruptions  of  her  foes,  returned  to  the  plough 
he  had  abandoned.  But  here  we  have  instances  of 
men,  who  had  been  actors  in  scenes,  which,  in  military 
magnifiicence,  far  transcended  the  wildest  imaginings 
of  the  Roman — turning  from  the  theater  of  their  for 
mer  triumphs,  and  exchanging  the  sword  for  the 
plough-share,  and  the  spear  for  the  pruning  hook.  In 
moral  dignity,  indeed,  the  advantage  is  all  in  favor  of 
the  ancient — for  these  are  driven  from  their  country 
by  compulsion, — but  in  other  respects  the  parallel  is 
not  unequal.  Who,  that  wT»uld  have  looked  upon 
Marshal  Grouchy,  or  General  Lefebvre,  as,  dressed  in 
their  plain  rustic  habiliments, — the  straw  hat,  the 
homespun  coat,  the  brogan  shoes — they  drove  the 
plough  in  the  open  field,  or  wielded  the  axe  in  the 
new-ground  clearing,  would,  if  unacquainted  with 
their  history,  have  dreamed  that  those  farmer-looking 
men  had  sat  in  the  councils  of  monarchs,  and  had 


40  ORATIONS. 

headed  mighty  armies  in  the  fields  of  the  sternest  strife 
the  world  has  ever  seen  ?  "  Do  you  know,  Sir" — said  a 
citizen  to  a  traveller,  who  in  1819,  was  passing  the 
road  from  Arcola  to  Eaglesville, — "  Do  you  know,  Sir, 
who  is  that  tine  looking  man,  who  just  ferried  you 
across  the  creek  ?"  "  No  !  Who  is  he  !  "—was  the 
reply.  "  That  Sir,  "  said  the  citizen,  "  is  the  Officer 
who  commanded  Napoleon's  advanced  guard  when  he 
returned  from  Elba  !  "  This  was  Col.  Baoul,  now  a 
General  in  France. 

Great  as  in  this  contrast,  it  was  perhaps  greater 
with  the  female  part  of  the  colonists.  Here,  dwelling 
in  cabins,  and  engaged  in  humble  attention  to  the  spin 
ning  wheel  and  the  loom,  or  handling  the  weeding-hoe, 
and  the  rake,  in  their  little  gardens,  were  matrons  and 
maidens,  who  had  been  born  to  proud  titles  and  high 
estates,  and  who  had  moved  as  stars  of  particular  ad 
oration,  amid  the  fashion  and  refinement  and  imperial 
display  of  the  Court  of  Versailles.  And  yet, — to  their 
honor  be  it  said — notwithstanding  the  rustic  and  ill- 
proportioned  circumstances  around  them, — they  did 
not  appear  dispirited  or  miserable.  Nothing  of  "  angels 
ruined,"  was  visible  in  their  condition.  They  were  con 
tented — smiling — happy.  As  cultivated  women  al 
ways  may,  they  diffused  around  them,  and  over  the 
restless  feelings  of  their  sterner  relatives,  the  softening 
graces  of  the  heart,  and  that  intellectual  glow  which, 
as  Spenser  has  said  of  the  retired  beauty  of  an  English 
girl, 

"  Makes  a  sunshine  in  the  shady  place  . 

But  not  the  leant  amusing  as  well  as  singular  cir- 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  41 

cumstances,  to  which  these  French  colonists  were  ex 
posed,  arose  from  their  connection  with  the  adjacent 
American  inhabitants.  Who  can  think  of  the  celebra 
ted  officers  I  have  named,  being  drilled  and  mustered 
by  one  of  our  ordinary  militia  captains,  and  not  feel 
emotions  of  the  supremely  ridiculous?  And  yet  such, 
I  am  credibly  informed,  was  frequently  the  case! 
Many  amusing  incidents  resulted  from  their  ignorance 
of  our  language.  One,  not  unworthy  of  preservation, 
was  this  :  An  officer  of  the  colony  became  engaged  in 
a  fight  with  a  citizen  of  one  of  our  villages.  They 
used  only  the  weapons  which  nature  had  given  them. 
The  Frenchman,  getting  the  worst  of  the  battle,  de 
sired  to  surrender  according  to  the  ordinary  signal  in 
such  cases.  But  he  could  not  think  of  the  word 
"  Enough!"  The  only  phrase  he  could  recall,  which  he 
had  ever  heard  upon  such  occasions,  was  the  word 
"  Hurra!"  This  he  continued  to  shout,  until  the  bye- 
standers,  guessing  his  meaning,  removed  his  antago 
nist. 

For  two  or  three  years,  the  colonists  appeared  pros 
perous  and  happy,  and  seemed  likely  to  realize  those 
visions  of  the  pastoral  state, — so  sweetly  sung  by  the 
Mantuan  bard,  and  which  they  had  caught  from  the 
pages  of  Chateaubriand  and  Eousseau.  But  "achange 
came  o'er  the  spirit  of  their  dream.  "  The  country  was 
found  unsuited  to  the  cultivation  of  the  Vine  and  the 
Olive.  The  restless  spirits  of  the  leaders,  which  had 
been  formed  and  tutored  to  act  a  part  in  those  games 
which  loosen  thrones  and  crack  the  sinews  of  whole  na 
tions,  could  not  be  content  with  the  quiet  circumfer- 


42  ORATIONS. 

ence  of  their  backwoods  home,  in  an  age  of  startling 
incidents,  when  war  was  afoot,  and  the  far  vibrations 
of  its  stormy  music,  were  heard,  like  the  Macedonian 
invitation,  in  their  sylvan  solitudes.  Inducements 
were  held  out  to  some  of  them  by  the  struggling  States 
of  South  America:  and  the  ferryman  left  his  flat,  and 
the  ploughman  his  furrow,  for  posts  of  honor  in  the 
army  of  Bolivar.  For  some,  the  decrees  of  their  ban 
ishment  were  revoked,  and  they  returned  to  "  la  belle 
France/' — for  which,  in  their  exile,  they  had  felt  all  the 
maladie  du  pays,  to  preside  in  her  senates,  or  to  head 
her  armies.  Seeing  their  leaders  thus  leaving  them, 
the  emigrants,  in  large  numbers,  disposed  of  their 
lands,  and  either  returned  to  their  native  country  or 
sought  more  congenial  homes  in  our  Southwestern  ci 
ties.  The  rights  of  the  soil  passed  into  the  hands  of  a 
few :  Congress,  at  intervals,  exempted  them  from  the 
requisitions  of  the  grant,  and  ultimately  included  them 
in  the  provisions  of  the  general  pre-emption  law  of 
1833.  The  Colony  thus  passed  away;  and  though 
there  are  many  of  the  original  families,  at  least  of  their 
descendants,  yet  residing  in  the  county,  a  stranger 
would  in  vain. look  among  the  black  lands  and  the 
broad  cotton  fields  of  Marengo,  for  the  simple  patches 
upon  which  the  Duke  of  Dantzic,  or  Count  Clausel 
attempted  to  cultivate  the  Olive  and  the  Vine. 

This,  is  a  superficial  glance  at*  the  French  Colony 
in  Alabama;  and  to  my  mind  it  presents  a  picture 
that  is  tinted  with  all  the  hues  of  poetry.  Well  has 
the  Evil-G-enius  of  modern  song  exclaimed,  '  Truth 
is  strange — stranger  than  fiction!'  Not  in  the  living 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  43 

conceptions  of  the  Wizard  of  Waverly — nor  in  the 
wilder  creations  of  a  Goethe  or  a  Boccaccio,  have  I 
found  aught — with  a  semblance  of  probability  about 
it — which  could  compare  with  this  singular  chapter  in 
Southwestern  history.  Nowhere,  but  in  our  own  an 
nals  can  its  parallel  be  found. 

And  here,  G-entlemen,  it  might  seem  proper  that 
we  should  conclude  our  glance  at  these  "  lights  and 
shadows"  of  Southwestern  history.  Your  attention 
has  already  been  detained  too  long  with  this  part  of 
our  Discourse.  But  there  is  one  branch  of  our  history 
— which,  as  it  pervades  the  whole,  and  gives  its  most 
marked  coloring  to  each  seperate  period, — cannot  be 
omitted  in  an  attempt  to  portray  the  character  of  that 
history, — which  it  has  been  my  object,  upon  this  occa 
sion,  to  do,  rather  than  to  give  you  a  mere  recital  of 
its  principal  events.  I  allude  to  the  history  of  the  In 
dian  Tribes,  who,  until  recently,  resided  within  our 
borders.  The  time  will  not  allow  me  to  enter  into  its 
examination;  but  a  few  general  facts,  collected  from 
the  lights  furnished  us  by  the  expedition  of  De  Soto, 
the  intercourse  of  the  French  settlers  in  Louisiana, 
and  the  subsequent  acquaintance  of  the  English  and 
Americans,  may  be  stated. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  tribes  who  inhabited 
the  Southwest,  thirty  years  ago,  were  the  same  who 
were  in  possesion  of  it  three  hundred  years  before, — 
and  had  occupied,  throughout  the  time,  the  same  rel 
ative  geographical  positions.  At  the  period  of  their 
first  discovery,  they  were  much  more  numerous  than 
at  any  subsequent  date,  though  they  have  always  been 


44  ORATIONS. 

amongst  the  most  powerful  of  the  North  American 
tribes.  They  have  ever  been  distinguished  for  great 
ferocity  of  spirit,  and  have  constantly  waged  among 
themselves,  violent  and  bloody  wars.  In  their  institu 
tions,  manners,  customs  and  languages,  they  had  not 
materially  changed  since  their  first  discovery.  Al 
though  there  are  many  tribes  mentioned  by  various 
writers,  as  having  resided  in  this  region — I  speak  of 
that  part  east  of  the  Mississippi, — yet  they  were  all 
subdivisions  of  five  general  tribes, — viz:  The  Creeks, 
the  Cherokees,  the  Choctaws,  the  Chickasaws,  and 
the  Natchez.  This  latter  tribe  was,  in  1726,  as  we 
have  stated,  totally  destroyed  by  the  French,  and  live 
hundred  of  them  sold  into  slavery  in  the  West  Indies. 
The  remainig  four  tribes  comprised  all  the  other  Indi 
ans  resident  in  this  extensive  region.  The  Coosas, 
and  the  Tallisees  oi  De  Soto,  and  the  Alibamons,  Mus- 
cogees,  and  Tallapoosas  of  the  French  and  Spanish 
writers,  were  all  merged  in  the  Creek  confederacy:  and 
the  Tuscaluza  Indians  of  1540,  and  the  Mobile,  Ten- 
saw  and  Biloxi  tribes  of  1700,  were  but  Choctaws 
under  a  different  name. 

Of  the  numerous  and  terrible  wars,  by  which  the  in 
tercourse  of  these  tribes  with  the  whites  has  ever  been 
marked,  and  which  consequently  gives  to  our  history 
one  of  its  strongest  features  of  peculiarity — it  is  impos 
sible  now  even  to  make  mention.  They  diffuse  along 
all  the  lines  of  our  progress  the  shadows  and  stains  of 
blood  :  from  the  battle  of  Chicaca,  three  centuries  ago, 
to  the  burning  of  St.  Kosalie,  two  centuries  after, 
from  the  butchery  of  Fort  London  upon  the  Tennessee, 

C..ff. 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  45 

in  1760,  to  the  Massacre  of  Fort  Mimms  upon  the 
Tombeckbe,  in  1812. 

The  historian  who  shall  record  these  things,  in  connec 
tion  with  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  the  several 
tribes,  in  a  manner  at  all  proportioned  to  the  subject, 
will,  it  seems  to  me,  furnish  as  interesting  and  instruc 
tive  a  volume  as  has  ever  been  written.  There  is  room 
for  the  wildest  romantic  descriptions,  as  well  as  the 
most  profound  philosophical  research.  Vapid  and  un 
meaning  declamations  will  do  no  good.  We  want  es 
tablished  facts  and  reasonable  deductions.  "We  want 
a  picture  of  the  institutions,  religious,  political  and 
social;  of  the  manners  and  customs,  military  and  paci 
fic;  of  the  languages,  in  their  form  and  construction — 
of  these  several  tribes.  But  he,  who  would  give  us 
such  a  picture,  must  begin  the  task  soon.  The  evi 
dences  of  these  things  are  daily  becoming  more  indis 
tinct.  "  Like  the  leaves  of  the  sycamore,  when  the 
wind  of  winter  is  blowing," — to  use  the  fine  simile  of 
a  Choctaw  orator, — "  the  Indians  are  passing  away, 
and  the  white  people  will  soon  know  no  more  of  them, 
than  they  do  of  those  deep  caves  out  of  which  they  had 
their  origin!"  These  tribes  have  already  passed  from 
our  soil.  It  therefore  behooves  us  to  be  the  more  active 
to  collect  the  memorials  of  their  history.  It  will  be, 
not  merely  the  sketches  of  a  singular  people,  but  will 
possess  the  additional  value  of  being  inseperably  inter 
woven  with  our  own  history,  from  its  earliest  era  down 
almost  to  the  present  day. 

I  have  now,  Gentlemen,  concluded  such  a  view  of 
the  History  of  our  section  of  the  Union,  as  I  deemed 


46  OftATIONS. 

not  inappropriate  for  the  present  occasion.  In  the  in 
vestigation,  I  am  conscious  that  I  have  been  dull  and 
tedious,  and  yet,  I  feel  satisfied  that  you  will  be  better 
pleased  with  what  I  have  said,  than  if  I  had  detained 
you  with  the  mere  effervescence  of  rhetoric  and  fancy — 
with  those  wind-blown  extravagances,  which  rise  upon 
the  surface  of  thought — the  glittering  existences  of  a 
minute,  and  then  pass  away,  justifying  you  in  exclaim 
ing,  with  Macbeth, 

"  Earth  hath  its  bubbles  as  the  waters  have, 
And  these  are  of  them  !" 

There  are  many  lessons  which  such  a  survey  of  our 
history  forces  upon  the  mind.  Not  the  least  of  these 
is  the  duty  of  our  educated  citizens,  to  develope  and 
collect  its  materials.  This  duty  will  fall  with  its 
strongest  obligations,  upon  you,  Gentlemen,  who  have 
been  born  and  educated  within  our  borders.  Although 
you  may  never  become  exclusively  devoted  to  Letters, 
you  will  yet  have  frequent  opportunities  to  discharge 
this  duty — a  duty  which  will  be  as  interesting  and 
agreeable,  as  it  will  be  honorable  to  yourselves.  By 
so  doing  you  will  best  repay  to  the  State,  the  favors 
which  she  has  bestowed  upon  you,  in  the  establish 
ment  of  high  institutions  of  learning;  and  will  diffuse 
around  you,  like  the  beautiful  magnolia  trees  of  our 
southern  forests,  a  hallowing  fragrance,  and  the  influ 
ence  of  an  example,  which  will  beautify  and  adorn  the 
community  in  which  you  may  reside. 

But,  Gentlemen,  perhaps  the  first  and  most  inter 
esting  duty  of  a  young  man,  in  entering  upon  life,  is 
to  understand  properly,  the  character  of  the  coinmuni- 


THP:  SOUTHWEST.  47 

ty  in  which  he  is  to  live.  With  this  belief,  it  was  my 
intention  to  have  addressed  you,  to-day,  principally 
upon  some  of  the  mental  and  moral  characteristics  of 
that  section  of  the  Union  of  which  you  are  citizens, 
and  into  whose  bosom  you  are  shortly  to  go  as  the 
apostles  of  her  first  Literary  Institution.  My  remem 
brance  of  collegiate  life  tells  me,  that  the  student  is 
usually  better  versed  in  the  social  economy  of  the  an 
cient  time  and  States,  than  in  that  of  his  own  period 
and  country.  He  can  tell  you  more  of  the  manners 
and  customs,  the  sentiments  and  feelings,  the  institu 
tions  and  intercourse,  of  "  the  world's  grey  fathers," 
than  he  can  of  his  own  immediate  society.  Many  a 
young  man  passes  through  a  University,  and  comes 
out  into  life,  with  the  music  of  Demosthenes  ringing 
in  his  ears,  the  morals  of  Seneca  impressed  upon  his 
heart,  and  the  philosophy  of  Epictetus  learned  by  rote, 
who  cannot  tell  what  is  the  actual  character  of  his 
own  country — what  is  the  condition  and  impulses  of 
the  people  about  him, — and  what  are  the  causes,  re 
mote  and  immediate,  which  produce  that  condition, 
and  form  and  fashion  that  character.  Such  a  youth  I 
should  describe  in  the  language  of  Pope  : 

"  A  bookful  blockhead,  ignorantly  read, 
With  loads  of  learned  lumber  in  his  head !" 

If  ancient  philosophy  is  at  all  valuable,  it  is  principal 
ly  so,  because  it  may  be  applied  to  the  illustration  and 
improvement  of  our  own  times, — because  it  can  guide 
us  in  the  understanding  and  formation  of  our  own 
manners  and  institutions.  It  should  be  a  hand-maid 


48  ORATIONS. 

and  not  a  usurper — an  index  and  not  a  goal !  Our  own 
age — our  own  country — our  own  society — this  should 
be  the  ultimate — indeed  the  pervading — view  and  ob 
ject  of  all  our  acquirements.  This,  only,  makes  philoso 
phy  practical — this,  only,  draws  the  distinction  between 
true  learning,  and  the  Questiones  Quodlibeticce  of  the 
Middle  Ages, — "beween  the  valuable  instructions  of  a 
Stewart  and  a  Say,  and  the  wild  theories  of  a  Thomas 
Aquinas  or  a  Duns  Scotus. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary,  then,  to  repeat,  Gentlemen, 
that  one  of  the  subjects  most  worthy  of  your  calm  and 
philosophical  attention,  is  the  Moral  and  Intellectual 
Character  of  the  Southwest.  With  this  estimation,  I 
had  intended,  as  I  have  already  said,  to  have  addressed 
you  at  some  length  upon  this  topic  :  but  the  extent, 
to  which  you  have  been  detained  with  the  first  part  of 
our  Discourse,  precludes  the  possibility  of  such  a  view. 
I  must  content  myself  with  general  allusions  to  some 
of  the  principal  features  of  the  subject.  Such  a  course, 
if  it  subserves  no  other  end,  will  at  least  be  directory  to 
the  vast  field  of  research  and  reflection,  which  opens 
on  the  mind. 

The  character  of  a  country  is  the  aggregated  charac 
ters  of  its  individual  citizens.  If  these  are,  in  the  main, 
intelligent,  virtuous,  liberal,  industrious,  hospitable, 
and  refined,  such  may  be  said  to  be  the  general  charac 
ter  of  their  community.  In  proportion  as  individuals 
of  different  qualities  enter  into  the  composition  of  so 
ciety — so  it  becomes,  in  its  general  tone,  less  pure  and 
elevated.  Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  to  judge  exactly 
of  the  character  of  a  country,  we  should  know  the 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  49 

characteristics  of  its  several  inhabitants.  But  it  is  im 
possible  in  a  community  of  any  extent,  to  form  an 
opinion  in  this  way.  Resort  must  be  had  to  other  and 
more  convenient  methods.  The  best  of  these  is  to  ex 
amine  those  general  causes  which  operate  to  produce 
and  modify  the  character  of  every  community.  This 
is  the  plan  we  propose  to  pursue  in  examining  the 
Moral  and  Intellectual  Character  of  the  Southwest. 
Her  peculiarities  only,  are  those  to  which  we  will  allude. 
That  these  peculiarities  are  numerous,  and  very  promi 
nent,  we  are  daily  reminded  by  the  Press  in  other  sec 
tions  of  the  Union.  Foreign  travelers  constantly 
speak  of  the  people  of  the  Southwest  as  possessing 
many  distinctive  traits.  Whenever  a  resident  of  the 
other  States — particularly  from  New  England — comes 
among  us,  he  finds  many  phases  and  features  of  socie 
ty,  which  are  to  him  not  only  novel  but  wonderful: 
and  at  the  same  time  he  affords  to  us  a  specimen  of  a 
community  varying  essentially  in  its  tone,  its  temper, 
its  feelings,  and  even,  to  some  extent,  in  its  pronuncia 
tion,  from  our  own.  This  difference  ought  not  to  be  a 
source  of  wonder  to  a  reflecting  mind.  Even  a  super 
ficial  notice  of  the  history  of  the  human  race,  shows  us 
that  man,  in  his  intellectual  and  moral  attributes,  is 
ever  modified  by  the  circumstances  around  him.  It  is 
therefore  not  more  surprising  that  the  extremes  of  our 
confederacy  should  vary  in  their  social,  than  in  their 
physical,  conditions,  if  we  consider  that  the  one  is  an 
old  and  the  other  a  new  community.  That  the  pecu 
liarities,  which  exist  in  our  case,  and  which  are  not  al 
ways  creditable  to  us  ;  which  indeed  have  given  us  a 


50  ORATIONS. 

character  abroad,  strangely  •  blending  many  of  the 
highest  virtues  with  the  ruder  vices  of  social  life — can 
be  traced,  in  the  main,  to  circumstances  inevitably  in 
cident  to  our  condition,  I  think  clearly  capable  of  de 
monstration.  It  is  a  proud  consolation,  too,  that 
those  causes,  which  have  produced  the  ruder  and  less 
ennobling  features  of  our  character,  are,  by  the  pro 
gress  of  time  and  the  operation  of  better  influences, 
already  passing  from  existence.  Let  us  now  take  a 
glance  at  some  of  these  causes. 

An  individual,  who  wished  properly  to  understand 
the  character  of  a  community,  should  examine  first, 
how,  and  of  what  materials,  that  community  was  form 
ed.  This  is  particularly  right  where  it  is  recent  in  its 
origin.  Now,  in  the  case  of  the  Southwest,  let  us  see 
how  its  society  was  formed,  and  what  are  its  compo 
nent  parts.  But  a  few  years  ago,  the  greater  portion 
of vthis  vast  region — of  whose  beauties  and  capacities 
for  the  purposes  of  social  man,  I  have  already  spoken, 
— was  an  uncultivated  wilderness,  untenanted  save  by 
ignorant  and  ferocious  barbarians.  The  tide  of  civili 
zed  population,  however,  some  thirty  years  since,  be 
gan  to  sweep  through  its  forests.  Its  progress,  at  first, 
was  slow  and  resisted  by  the  primitive  inhabitants. 
The  white  men  consequently,  who  sought  homes  in  its 
bosom,  like  the  pioneers  of  every  new  country,  were  ad 
venturous  and  daring  spirits,  and  the  manner  of  life, 
which  they  were  forced  to  lead,  was,  in  a  great  mea 
sure,  lawless,  self-dependent,  and  semi-barbarous.  But, 
in  a  little  while,  the  flow  of  population  became  more 
broad  and  rapid.  Glowing  accounts  of  the  natural  ad- 


THE   SOUTHWEST.  51 

vantages  of  the  region,  attracted  emigrants  from  every 
section  of  the  Union.  The  Carolinian,  the  Georgian, 
the  Virginian,  the  inhabitants  of  the  Middle  and  Wes 
tern  States,  and  the  New  Englander,  all  poured,  with 
their  families,  into  this  vast  and  fertile  field,  with  un 
precedented  rapidity.  They  came — in  the  phrase  of 
the  day — for  the  purpose  of  making  fortunes;  and 
were  accordingly  "  business  men."  Without  much  re 
ference  to  each  other,  they  settled  down,  wherever  con 
venience  or  the  hope  of  profit  seemed  to  advise;  and 
Went  to  the  laudable  business  of  making  laws  and  for 
tunes.  If  to  this  we  add  a  considerable  amount  of  for 
eign  emigration,  we  have  a  correct  idea  of  how  the 
Southwestern  States,  particularly  Mississippi  and  Ala 
bama,  were  filled  with  their  present  population.  From 
such  materials,  under  such  circumstances,  what  kind 
of  a  character  is  it  rational  to  suppose  that  such  a  com 
munity  would  possess?  The  purposes  for  which  they 
have  emigrated  warrant  that  they  will,  generally,  be 
industrious  and  practical.  They  have  not  left  their 
homes  to  seek  the  pleasures  and  embellishments  of  life. 
Profit — that  profit  which  comes  from  laborious  exer 
tion — is  their  main  object.  Those  virtues  which  follow 
in  the  train  of  industry — like  sparkles  in  the  wake  of  a 
ship — frugality,  economy,  honesty — must  be  theirs. 
Hospitality — the  chief  of  social  virtues — is  taught 
them  by  the  necessities  of  their  situation.  The  same 
cause  teaches  them  self-reliance — and  independence  of 
spirit  is  its  consequence.  Intercourse,  under  such  cir 
cumstances,  must  be  free,  unceremonious,  and  liberal 


52  OEATIONS. 

All  being  upon  an  equality,  there  can  be  nothing  like 
aristocracy  in  society 

These  excellences  are,  however,  qualified  by  atten 
dant  evils.  Roughness  of  manner ;  an  improper  haugh 
tiness  of  spirit,  producing  frequently  violence  and 
crime;  a  disregard  of  the  laws  and  of  any  restraint; 
neglect  of  the  charities  and  courtesies  of  social  life,  as 
effeminate  and  unbecoming;  and  a  general  deteriora 
tion  of  the  moral  feelings,  are,  in  a  new  and  backwoods 
community,  most  usually,  the  shadows  of  the  virtues 
I  have  named.  And  yet,  in  the  Southwest,  their  devel 
opment  has  been  greatly  prevented  by  the  goodness 
and  variety  of  the  materials  out  of  which  its  society 
was  composed.  The  emigrants,  coming  from  every 
section  of  the  Union,  brought  with  them,  and  placed 
in  conflict,  that  pride  of  home,  with  its  improvements, 
and  that  desire  to  excel  which  belongs  to  the  inhabi 
tants  of  the  several  States.  A  competition  for  excel 
lence,  being  thus  produced,  tends  to  suppress  the  vices, 
and  to  develope  and  keep  alive  the  virtues,  of  the  com 
munity.  In  such  a  state  of  society,  it  is  not  to  be  ex 
pected  that  literature  or  the  fine  arts  should  have  a 
home.  These,  while  they  improve  the  whole  structure, 
are  but  its  embellishments.  The  architecture  of  society 
must  be  first  strong  and  useful:  the  Doric  and  the  Go 
thic  are  its  emblematic  orders  !  Refinement  and  ele 
gance  belong  to  more  advanced  stages:  and  it  is  then 
that  the  graceful  Ionic,  and  the  ornate  Corinthian — fit 
metaphors  of  the  beautifying  branches  of  learning — 
blend  their  sweet  proportions  with  the  more  solid  parts 


THE   SOUTHWEST.  53 

of  the  edifice.  To  speak  less  figuratively,  new  commu 
nities  pay  more  attention  to  those  parts  of  knowledge 
which  supply  and  relieve  their  wants;  which  are  pure 
ly  practical  in  their  nature;  than  to  those  branches 
which  please  the  fancy  or  gratify  the  heart.  Such 
has  been  the  course  and  character  of  the  Southwest: 
and  it  is  clearly  referable,  I  think,  to  the  general  cau 
ses,  I  have  indicated. 

The  character,  thus  drawn,  applies  more  properly  to 
the  Southwest,  as  it  was  ten  years  ago,  than  is  at  pre 
sent:  but  as  it  is  the  one  yet  entertained  abroad,  to  a 
great  extent,  I  have  thought  proper  to  show  it,  and  its 
producing  causes.  The  evils  of  a  very  early  state  of 
society  have  measurably  passed  from  among  us. 
Their  effects  to  some  extent  yet  linger,  but  are  daily 
diminishing,  while  the  beneficial  effects  of  emigration 
exist  in  their  full  force.  One  of  these,  secondary  how 
ever  in  importance,  is  the  purity  and  correctness  with 
which  the  English  language  is  spoken  among  us.  I  be 
lieve  there  is  no  part  of  the  world, — not  even  London 
• — in  which  our  mother  tongue  is  pronounced  with  more 
accuracy  than  in  the  Southwest.  No  where  are  there 
fewer  provincialisms.  This  results  from  the  great  and 
continual  admixture  of  population,  from  all  parts  of 
the  Union.  Each  one  acts  as  a  check  and  a  corrective 
upon  his  neighbor;  and  thus  the  "  well  of  English"  is 
kept  pure  and  undefiled. 

Another  good  and  enduring  operation  which  this, 
our  primitive  state,  has  had  upon  our  character,  is  its 
effect  upon  the  yeomanry  of  our  land.  It  has  genera 
ted  an  honest,  hardy,  and  patriotic  population,  who 


54  OEATIONS. 

may  be  fitly  described  in  the  language  Halleck  has 
applied  to  the  people  of  Connecticut : 

"  A  stubborn  race,  flattering  and  fearing  none — 
They  love  their  land  because  it  is  their  own, 

And  scorn  to  give  aught  other  reason  why ; 
Would  shake  hands  with  a  king  upon  his  throne, 

And  think  it  kindness  to  his  majesty  !' 

This  leads  us  directly  to  the  consideration  of  another 
general  cause,  which  has  had  an  important  operation, 
in  forming  the  character  the  Southwest  has  hitherto 
maintained;  and  which  must  have  a  preponderating 
influence,  in  all  future  time,  upon  its  mental  and  moral 
development  and  direction.  I  refer  to  the  Agricultural 
pursuits  of  its  inhabitants.  Such  is  the  physical  con 
formation  of  our  region;  such  its  advantages  over  the 
rest  of  the  world  for  the  production  of  the  great  staples 
of  commerce  and  manufactures;  and  such  its  geographi 
cal,  and,  I  may  add,  in  a  kindred  sense,  its  mercantile 
position;  that  it  must  always  be  looked  to  and  employed 
as  a  "growing  country/'  Of  the  political  results  of 
this  inevitable  condition  I  shall  now  say  nothing;  but 
in  it  I  see  the  secret  of  much  of  our  past,  and  the  as 
surance  of  our  future,  character.  Agricultural  commu 
nities  have  always  been  distinguished  by  peculiarities 
resulting  from  their  pursuits.  Virgil,  in  that  inimita 
ble  poem — inimitable  for  its  combination  of  the  simple 
with  the  sublime,  the  pathetic  with  the  humorous,  the 
commonplace  with  the  dignified,  and  which  he  was 
seven  years  in  writing  and  polishing — I  mean  the 
Georgics — has  given  us  a  beautiful  portraiture  of  the 
occupations  of  the  husbandman,  and  their  effects  upon 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  55 

his  character.  The  same  subject  was  previously  not 
less  sweetly  delineated  by  the  Ascroean  bard,  Hesiod, 
in  his  Opera  et  Dies,  and  the  lessons  of  agriculture 
blended  with  moral  reflections  worthy  of  a  Plato  or  a 
Pythagoras.  Hafiz,  the  Persian,  at  a  later  day,  and 
in  a  far  different  country,  sang  the  same  sweet  anthem, 
in  tones  not  unworthy  of  his  predecessors. 

But  the  beneficial  effects  of  agricultural  pursuits 
upon  the  mind  and  morals  are  not  the  mere  raptures 
of  fancy.  It  is  true  that  poetry  throws  a  dazzling 
veil  over  many  imprefections,  and  shows  us  only  the 
sunny  side  of  the  picture  ;  yet  it  holds  to  reason  that 
that  occupation,  which  attaches  a  man  to  the  soil, 
which  gives  him  a  definite  idea  of  property  and  home, 
which  shows  him  the  bountiful  rewards  of  patient 
industry  and  economy,  which  leads  him  not  into  the 
fever  and  struggle  of  vexatious  and  envious  life,  must 
spread  around  him  a  calm  atmosphere  of  good  feelings, 
and  cause  the  genial  and  ennobling  virtues  to  spring  up 
in  his  heart,  like  the  flowers  and  the  plants  in  the  rich 
fields  of  his  own  cultivation.  At  the  same  time  the 
operation  upon  the  mental  faculties  is  healthful  and 
improving.  Regular  exercise  is  not  more  beneficial  to 
the  body  than  it  is  to  the  intellectual  capabilities. 
Hens  sana  in  sano  corpore  is  a  maxim  attested  by  the 
experience  of  all  ages.  And  yet  it  is  but  candid  to 
confess  that,  while  the  pursuits  of  the  farmer  thus  tend 
to  enlarge  his  intellect — to  make  it  muscular,  active, 
and  healthful — capable  of  prolonged  and  energetic  exer 
tion — they  have  no  direct  influence  to  make  him  desire 
or  seek  for  extensive  acquirements  in  learning.  Prac- 


56  ORATIONS. 

tical  information — that  kind  of  knowledge  which  en 
ables  him  to  comprehend  and  carry  on  his  own  business 
— is  all  that  he  feels  to  be  absolutely  necessary.  And. 
yet,  we  may  remark,  that  if  the  farmer  properly  appre 
ciated  his  own  condition,  he  would  find  that  the  whole 
range  of  natural  science  would  be  of  immense  advan 
tage  to  him  in  his  occupation. 

That  such  has  been  the  influence  of  agricultural 
pursuits  upon  the  inhabitants  of  the  Southwest,  I 
firmly  believe.  Their  situation  in  a  new  and  unopen 
ed  region  has,  indeed,  prevented  a  full  exhibition  of 
these  beneficial  effects  ;  but  the  good  spirit  has  been 
at  work,  through  all  their  difficulties,  and  though 
silent  and  perhaps  unnoticed  as  the  atmosphere  we 
breathe,  yet  nevertheless  like  it,  has  shed  a  soft  and 
humanizing  spell  over  the  rudeness  of  the  times. 
That  it  is  not  an  extravagant  fancy  to  augur  well  from 
this  cause,  for  our  character  in  future,  I  am  more 
strongly  convinced.  It  is  true  that  the  general  diffu 
sion  of  our  population  throughout  the  country,  neces 
sarily  incident  to  the  nature  of  their  pursuits,  will  pre 
vent  the  establishment  of  many  large  cities,  which 
seem  to  be  requisite  always  for  the  cultivation  of  the 
higher  refinements  and  fashions  of  life.  But  this  in 
itself  may  be  regarded  rather  as  a  blessing  than  an 
evil.  With  those  elegancies  and  improvements,  atten 
dant  upon  the  collection  of  individuals  in  large  mas 
ses,  ever, come  many  vices  which  more  than  counter 
balance  the  good.  Some  cities  will  indeed  arise  upon 
our  sea-coast  for  the  purposes  of  commerce  :  but  the 
general  mass  of  our  population,  as  it  will  be  agricul- 


THE   SOUTHWEST.  57 

tural,  will  consequently  be  scattered  throughout  the 
country.  Is  it  therefore  unreasonable  to  suppose  that 
they  will,  in  the  main,  be  characterized  by  those  virtues 
which  are  incidental  to  an  agricultural  community — 
by  industry,  generosity,  independence  of  spirit,  hos 
pitality,  patriotism,  and  generally  diffused  and  prac 
tical  intelligence,  if  not  by  a  refined  and  elevated 
literature  ?  Such  men  make  the  best  citizens  in 
time  of  peace,  and  the  best  soldiers  in  war.  Such 
men  are  the  surest  guarantee  of  the  permanency 
and  virtue  of  our  republican  institutions.  Plain  and 
unostentatious,  they  have  no  desire,  as  they  have  no 
respect,  for  the  glittering  baubles  and  empty  meta 
phors  of  monarchial  institutions.  Domestic  in  their 
dispositions,  firm  and  patriotic,  they  are  not  wafted 
about  by  those  excitements  in  politics  and  trade, 
which  have  so  often  lashed  into  tempest  the  crowded 
and  fevered  populations  of  Manchester  and  Paris. 
They  are'not  only  the  bones  and  sinews  of  a  good  com 
munity  ;  they  are  its  veins,  its  arteries,  which  conduct 
the  regular  and  healthful  currents  of  pure  vitality 
through  the  whole  body  politic. 

Such.  Gentlemen,  I  believe,  is  a  correct  view  of  the 
nature  and  influence  of  the  pursuits,  which,  at  present 
engage,  and  must  occupy  in  future,  the  attention  of 
the  great  mass  of  our  population — composed  as  it  is, 
not  of  the  dwellers  in  our  towns  and  villages — not  of 
planters  who  rule  over  large  numbers  of  slaves, — but 
of  the  humble  and  industrious,  who  are  scattered 
everywhere,  among  our  hills  and  valleys,  reaping, 
according  to  the  primal  ordinance,  the  fruits  and  trea- 


58  ORATIONS. 

sures  of  the  earth.  It  may  seem  that  I  have  over 
rated  the  number  and  importance  of  this  class  of  our 
society  ;  but  any  one  who  will  travel  through  the  inte 
rior  of  our  country  ;  who  will  follow  the  "  neighbor 
hood  roads/'  as  they  are  termed,  through  all  their  hum 
ble  windings  ;  who  will  go  to  our  muster-grounds,  our 
election  precincts,  our  county  meeting  houses,  and 
occasionally  to  a  Methodist  Camp  meeting,  or  a  Bap 
tist  Association,  and  will  then  ask  himself  where  the 
seventeen  hundred  thousand  white  inhabitants  dwell, 
who  at  present  swell  the  census  of  the  Southwest, — 
will  find  that  the  class,  o±  which  I  have  spoken,  con 
stitute  at  least  a  moiety  of  our  actual  population. 
And  are  not  these  to  be  regarded,  in  estimating  the 
present  and  prospective  character  of  our  country  ? 

Associated  with  this  subject,  and  contituting  an 
other  general  influence,  indeed  the  principal  one — 
upon  Southwestern  character,  is  that  division  of  society 
which  exists  throughout  the  South,  and  which  is  de 
nominated  our  Peculiar  Domestic  Institution.  The 
present  occasion  would  be  inappropriate  to  enter  into 
the  discussion  of  a  topic,  which  has  been  discreetly 
voted  a  sealed  subject  among  us.  I  shall  therefore 
only  remark,  upon  its  general  merits,  that  I  am  al 
ways  ready  to  maintain,  at  proper  times  and  places, 
that  it  is  an  Institution,  in  itself,  naturally,  morally, 
and  politically  right  and  beneficial.  As  regards  its 
Intellectual  and  Moral  effects,  it  may  not  be  improper 
to  say  a  few  words.  Much  of  that  character  which  is 
peculiar  to  our  section  of  the  Union  is  traceable  to 
this  Institution.  By  producing  two  broad  and  dis- 


THE    SOUTHWEST  59 

tinct  classes  in  society,  it  has  generated,  upon  the  part 
of  our  white  inhabitants,  a  spirit  of  superiority  and 
self-esteem,  a  certain  aristocracy  of  feeling,  and  a  proud 
chivalry  of  character,  which  do  not  elsewhere  so  gener 
ally  exist.  This  has  always  been  known  as  an  effect 
of  such  Institutions.  Lycurgus  introduced  the  Helots 
into  Sparta  to  accomplish  this  end.  He  believed  that 
the  Lacedemonians  could  not  cherish  and  appreciate 
properly  the  social  and  political  virtues,  and  that  that 
spirit  of  equality  so  essential  to  republican  governments 
could  not  exist,  unless  the  menial  and  more  laborious 
duties  were  discharged  by  a  seperate  and  inferior  class. 
The  beneficial  effect  upon  Spartan  character  is  a  mat 
ter  of  history.  Bryan  Edwards,  in  his  History  of  the 
West  Indies,  tells  us  that  a  similar  influence  is  exercised, 
by  this  Institution,  upon  the  white  inhabitants  of 
those  islands.  He  says  that  "  the  leading  feature  of 
their  character  is  an  independent  spirit,  and  a  display 
of  conscious  equality  throughout  all  ranks  and  condi 
tions.  The  poorest  white  person  seems  to  consider 
himself  nearly  upon  a  level  with  the  conditon  of  the 
richest ;  and,  emboldened  by  this  idea,  he  approaches 
his  employer  with  extended  hand,  and  a  freedom  which, 
in  the  countries  of  Europe,  is  seldom  displayed  by  men 
in  the  lower  orders  of  life  to  their  superiors."  In  our 
own  country,  the  same  truth,  so  congenial  to  republi 
canism,  is  still  more  strongly  attested, — and  in  its 
train  follow  many  of  the  higher  virtues.  Magnanimity, 
liberality,  a  spirit  of  justice,  disdain  for  anything  like 
meanness  or  parsimony  of  disposition,  a  love  of  excel 
lence,  are  all  characteristics  of  the  Southron. 


60  ORATIONS. 

The  facilities  and  incentives  afforded  by  this  Institu 
tion,  for  intellectual  improvement,  are  great  and  grati 
fying.  The  necessity  for  bodily  labor  being  to  a  great 
extent  removed  from  a  large  part  of  our  citizens,  they 
can  devote  their  full  time  to  the  culture  of  the  mind. 
The  spirit  which  it  excites,  being  one  content  with  no 
secondary  rank  in  excellence,  prompts  to  the  attain 
ment  of  knowledge  in  its  highest  departments.  In  a 
few  years,  owing  to  the  operation  of  this  institution, 
upon  our  unparalleled  natural  advantages,  we  shall 
be  the  richest  people  beneath  the  bend  of  the  rainbow, 
and  then  the  arts  and  the  sciences,  which  always  follow 
in  the  train  of  wealth,  will  nourish  to  an  extent  hitherto 
unknown  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

I  might  go  on  and  enumerate  a  thousand  other  ad 
vantages  which  have  arisen,  and  which  will  arise,  from 
this  Institution,  in  a  moral  and  intellectual  way,  but  I 
feel  that  I  am  dealing  with  a  subject,  of  which  we  had 
better  think  than  speak.  I  will  leave  it  therefore,  with 
the  simple  remark,  that  it  is  worthy  of  your  calm  and 
philosophical  examination, — and  that  such  an  examin 
ation  will  prove  to  you  that  this,  our  Peculiar  Institu 
tion,  is  not  only  right  upon  principles  of  morality,  but 
that  it  is  fraught  with  an  influence  upon  the  whole 
character  of  our  section  of  the  Union,  of  the  most 
gratifying  kind. 

If  I  were  here  to  conclude  my  enumeration  of  the 
general  causes,  which  have  tended  to  produce  South 
western  Character,  and  their  results,  I  should  be  ac 
cused  of  drawing  a  nattering  and  incorrect  picture  for 
the  sake  of  sectional  gratulation.  It  is  but  honest  tc, 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  61 

admit  that  there  are  many  fault?  which  have  not  been 
mentioned.  De  Tocqueville—  perhaps  the  most  sensi 
ble  foreigner  who  has  ever  visited  the  United  States — 
in  speaking  of  the  Southwest,  says  that  "  it  has  ever 
been  marked  by  lawlessness,  frequency  of  crime,  and 
the  impunity  with  which  vice  is  committed."  While 
bowing  our  heads  in  shame  before  the  truth  of  this 
charge,  I  think  it  can  be  clearly  shown  that  it  depends 
not,  as  has  been  asserted,  upon  causes  necessarily  inhe 
rent  in  the  constitution  of  our  society.  Indeed  the 
charge  contains,  in  its  specifications,  one  of  the  reasons, 
why  they  all  exist.  "  The  impunity  with  which  vice 
is  committed"  is  the  cause  of  "  lawlessness"  and  "  fre 
quency  of  crime."  The  fault,  then  is  either  in  the 
character  of  our  laws,  or  in  their  administration.  In 
deed  it  is  in  both :  although  the  evils  of  the  latter  re 
sult  principally  from  the  former.  The  best  guarantee 
for  the  execution  of  the  laws  is  that  those  laws  should 
themselves  be  good.  If  they  are  of  that  kind  which 
cannot  command  the  respect  of  the  people,  or  are  such 
as  cause  the  moral  sense  to  revolt  at  their  execution, 
they  had  better  be  blotted  from  the  statute-book.  You 
cannot  expect  the  officer  to  enforce  the  laws,  unless 
the  feelings  of  the  community  are  with  him  in  the  dis 
charge  of  his  duty.  The  history  of  judicial  adminis 
tration  in  the  Southwest,  sustains  this  assertion.  Our 
laws  have  been  impotent,  in  many  cases,  because  they 
have  been  disproportioned  to  the  offences  ;  and  the 
guilty  have  consequently  gone  unpunished.  One  such 
omission  affects  the  whole  character  of  justice.  Seeing 
the  laws  disobeyed  or  neglected  in  one  instance,  the 


62  ORATIONS. 

people  see  no  reason  why  they  should  not  be  in  others. 
In  many  cases,  too,  we  have  had  no  laws  where  they  were 
much  needed.  This  enables  gross  and  shocking  offen 
ces  to  be  committed  against  the  community,  for  which 
there  is  no  ample  or  appropriate  penalty.  Is  it  to  be 
wondered  at  that,  under  such  circumstances,  the  people 
should  take,  as  it  is  termed,  the  law  into  their  own 
hands  ?  This  produces  that  odious,  disgraceful  and 
dangerous  practice  called  "  Lynch  Law" — which  has 
so  frequently,  of  late  years,  cast  a  blackening  stain 
upon  the  fair  character  of  our  region,  and  which,  like 
the  blood  of  the  murdered,  upon  the  hands  of  the  Scot 
tish  usurper,  will  not  out,  at  our  bidding. 

These  evils  have  all  resulted  from  the  fact  that  we 
have  not  had  a  proper  criminal  code,  in  the  two  States 
— Alabama  and  Misissippi — to  which  the  charges  are 
chiefly  applicable  :  arid  this  has,  no  doubt,  arisen  from 
the  youth  of  these  States.  It  takes  some  time  to  cre 
ate  a  system  of  penal  laws  suited  to  the  character  of  a 
people.  It  can  only  be  done  by  a  philosophical  exam 
ination  of  that  character.  The  early  legislators  of  our 
State,  and  of  her  western  neighbor,  erred  in  thinking 
that  a  severe  code  was  best  calculated  for  the  times. 
It  is  a  maxim  of  law,  that  severity  is  not  so  sure  a  pre 
ventive  of  crime,  as  certainty,  of  punishment  ;  and 
that  there  should  be  a  gradation  in  the  penalties,  as 
there  is  in  the  turpitude,  of  offences.  It  is  a  gratifying 
fact  that  the  law-makers  of  these  States  have,  at 
length,  discovered  the  truth  of  these  maxims,  and  have 
set  about  reforming  their  criminal  codes.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  the  Penitentiary  system,  which  was  adopted 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  63 

by  our  Legislature  at  its  last  session,  will  be  so  arranged 
in  its  details,  as  to  furnish  us  a  system  of  penal  laws, 
which  will  fully  answer  the  purposes  of  justice,  and 
save  us,  in  all  future  time,  from  the  bitter  reproach  of 
being  a  lawless  and  semi-barbarous  people. 

If  this  subject  is  properly  attended  to  throughout 
the  Southwest,  the  dark  shadows  which  rest  upon  our 
name  will  be  removed  :  the  ennobling  causes  of  moral 
and  intellectual  prosperity,  to  which  I  have  referred, 
will  have  a  full  and  free  operation  ;  our  character  will 
become  such  as  we  may  well  be  proud  of ;  and  our 
section  of  the  Union  will  ascend  in  every  respect  to 
that  lofty  excellence,  of  which  it  has  such  ennobling 
prospects.  A  few  remarks  upon  these  Prospects  will 
conclude,  Gentlemen,  what  I,  have  to  say  to  you,  to 
day. 

I  have  sometimes,  in  hours  of  contemplation,  at 
tempted  to  imagine  what  is  to  be  the  destiny  of  this 
vast  region  which  we  inhabit.  In  my  fancies  I  have 
never,  for  a  moment,  seperated  her  from  the  rest  of  the 
Union.  The  chain,  which  binds  us  together,  seems, 
to  my  mind,  to  be  composed  of  moral  and  political 
motives,  and  of  physical  causes,  which  must  always  keep 
us  one.  And  yet  that  unity  can  only  be  best  preserved 
by  the  citizens  of  each  section,  emulating  in  the  pro 
gress  of  improvement.  If  we  stand  still  here  in  the 
Southwest,  our  section — in  military  phrase — cannot 
keep  step  with  the  rest  of  the  confederacy ;  we  must 
hang  like  a  dead  limb  upon  the  body  national.  No 
improper  motives,  therefore,  enter  into  the  seperate 
contemplation  of  the  prospects  of  our  own  peculiar  re- 


*J4  OKATIONS. 

gion.  In  my  mind  such  a  contemplation  gives  birth 
to  the  purest  species  of  patriotic  pride.  I  look  around 
over  our  extended  territories,  and  I  find  them  in  the 
possession  of  a  race  of  men,  upon  which,,  for  near  a 
thousand  years,  the  choicest  benedictions  of  heaven 
seem  to  have  been  bestowed  :  the  Anglo-Saxon  race. 
They  are  living  beneath  the  ennobling  influence  of  Re- 
publican  institutions,  and  under  the  blessed  light  of 
the  Protestant  religion.  With  that  spirit  which  has 
ever  marked  their  path  in  history,  they  are  applying 
to  the  vast  natural  resources  of  this  region,  all  the  in 
ventions  and  improvements  which  science  has  given  to 
art.  By  their  efforts,  gigantic  and  savage  forests  have 
been  changed  into  scenes  of  fruitfulness  and  beauty. 
Towns  and  villages  havt*  sprung  up  with  the  sudden 
ness  of  a  magician's  transformations.  Bivers,  which 
but  a  few  years  ago  rolled  in  unfettered  majesty  through 
wide  solitudes — "  hearing  no  sound  save  their  own 
dashing," — have  been  converted  into  channels  of  com 
merce,  and  are  now  to  be  seen,  lined  with  floating  pal 
aces,  conveying  to  the  sea  the  rich  productions  of  the 
soil.  Across  the  high  hill,  and  through  the  deep  val 
ley,  the  long  Railroad  is  visible,  passing  like  a  thing 
of  life,  uniting  distant  communities  together,  cheapen 
ing  and  facilitating  transportation  and  travel,  scattering 
riches  around  its  path  with  the  prodigality  of  sunshine, 
and  giving  to  the  immense  advantages  of  the  country, 
their  full  operation  upon  the  rest  of  the  world. 

And  the  tide  of  this  improvement  is  onward  ! 
There  is  no  pause — no  exhaustion  !  Our  population 
itself  is  rapidly  increasing.  Where  forty  years  ago 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  65 

there  were  scarcely  five  thousand  civilized  inhabitants, 
there  are  now  nearly  two  millions.  Well  might  Mr. 
Everett  say  that,  when  in  Germany  he  spoke  of  these 
things,  his  auditors  regarded  him  with  the  same  sur 
prise  and  disbelief,  with  which  the  Emperor  of  China 
viewed  the  English  merchant,  who  told  him  that,  in 
the  cold  climate  of  Great  Britain,  water  frequently 
became  as  hard  as  stone.  And  yet  this  great  increase 
of  population  is  going  on  with  the  same  rapidity.  If 
it  should  continue,  in  a  few  years  how  very  vast  will 
be  the  number  of  our  inhabitants  !  No  States  in  the 
Union  will  surpass  those  of  the  Southwest. 

From  these  manifestations,  and  from  the  mental  and 
moral  influences  to  which  I  have  referred,  what  is 
it  reasonable  to  expect  will  be  'the  destiny  of  our  sec 
tion  of  the  Union  ?  Is  it  enthusiasm,  to  believe  that 
at  no  very  distant  day,  we  shall,  in  all  the  constituents 
of  true  greatness,  in  all  that  can  render  a  people  pros 
perous,  happy  and  respected,  in  no  manner,  be  inferior 
to  any  part  of  the  world  !  Will  you  look  to  Agricul 
ture  ?  Already,  but  with  scarce  a  tithe  of  our  re 
sources  developed,  we  are  furnishing  to  the  world,  the 
great  staple  commodities  of  trade  and  manufactures. 
Even  now,  the  failure  of  one  of  our  crops  would  affect 
the  financial  and  mercantile  interests  of  Europe  to 
their  core.  South  of  us,  in  our  own  continent,  nations 
are  springing  into  existence,  which  are  demanding  our 
productions,  and  will  increase  the  demand  for  the 
future.  This  will  force  us  into  Commerce.  It  is  true 
that,  in  past  years,  our  trade  has  been  carried  on  by 
others,  and  that  through  unnatural,  and  to  us  expen- 


66  ORATIONS. 

sive;  channels  :  and  that  there  are  pseudo-philosophers, 
even  in  our  own  borders,  who  tell  us  that  this 
course  of  things  is  inevitable,  and  must  always  con 
tinue.  "  You  want  the  means — you  want  the  capi- 
ital  !"  Such  talk  is  unlettered  nonsense.  We  have 
the  means — we  have  the  capital !  We  have  them  in 
our  invaluable  natural  products,  which  the  world  must 
have.  Nothing  but  an  unjust  system  of  national  leg 
islation — nothing  but  the  consequent  indebtedness  of 
our  merchants  in  the  Northern  cities — has  ever  wrenched 
our  trade  from  direct  communion  with  Europe,  and 
kept  it  in  a  route  at  once  inconvenient  and  circuitous, 
and  which  operates  to  enforce  a  tax  upon  us  of  several 
millions  of  dollars  annually.  If  the  people  of  this 
section  will  reflect  properly  upon  this  subject — if  we 
are  left  unfettered  by  restrictive,  arid  oppressive, 
though  indirect,  legislation — if  the  leading  minds  of  our 
region  will  devote  their  time  and  energies  to  this  ob 
ject — as  that  master  spirit,  who  recently  fell  in  a 
neighboring  State, *  like  Muly  Moluck,  with  his  har 
ness  on;  in  the  very  onset  of  the  battle — the  efforts  of 
interested  individuals  to  control  our  commerce  will  be 
as  impotent  as  the  struggles  of  the  Persian  to  fetter 
the  heavings  of  the  sea  of  Greece  ;  and  the  South  and 
her  younger  sister  the  Southwest,  will  flourish  to  a  de 
gree  which  they  have  hitherto  never  known.  This  ex 
alted  consummation,  I  confidently  expect,  as  not  very 
remote. 

But  the  most  ennobling   and  gratifying  prospect, 


*  Robert  Y.  Havne,  of  South  Carolina. 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  67 

which  opens  to  the  citizen  of  the  Southwest,  is  the  ex 
cellence  which  this  section  of  the  Union  is  to  attain  in 
Literature.  I  have  looked  very  erroneously  upon  the 
natural  advantages  of  our  region  ;  upon  the  kind  and 
character  of  its  inhabitants  ;  upon  the  form  and  na 
ture  of  its  political  and  social  institutions  ;  upon  the 
moral  causes  which  are  at  operation  among  us  ;  and  at 
our  prospects  in  every  other  respect,  if  we  are  not  des 
tined  to  an  exalted  position  in  the  Republic  of  Letters. 
A  contemporary  poet,  not  more  imaginative  than 
philosophical,  has  told  us  that  "  coming  events  cast 
their  shadows  before  ;"  and,  if  we  may  deem  the  ap 
pearances  about  us  at  all  indicative  of  the  future,  they 
surely  warrant  the  anticipation  that  here  the  Arts  and 
Sciences — the  whole  circle  of  Belles-lettres — are  to 
flourish  with  the  freshness  and  beauty  of  their  Grecian 
morning. 

This  anticipation,  Gentlemen  of  the  Erosophic 
Society,  is  particularly  appropriate  to  the  present  occa 
sion.  It  blends  with,  and  terminates,  the  character 
and  design  of  your  association.  Your  object  is,  by 
improving  yourselves,  to  improve  the  Literature  of 
your  country.  By  Literature,  I  understand  not  that 
trivial,  puerile  and  evanescent  species  of  composition, 
which  is  produced  by  love-sick  school  boys,  and  bread 
and  butter  misses — not  that  ginger-bread  work  of  the 
fancy,  whose  highest  ambition  is  to  embalm,  in  immor 
tal  nonsense,  the  miraculous  feats  and  failings  of 
monks  and  nuns,  of  counts  and  robbers— the  very 
spawn  of  distorted  intellect — nor  yet  that  phosphoric 
effulgence,  which  gleams  luridly,  as  in  the  infidel  and 


68  ORATIONS. 

infamouswri  tings  of  Voltaire  and  Rousseau,  from  the 
putrid  corruptions  of  the  times — but  by  Literature  I 
understand  those  exalted  manifestations  of  mind  which 
show  that  the  people  of  a  country  think  for  themselves, 
think  much,  think  correctly;  that  their  morals,  as 
well  as  their  intellect,  are  improved ;  that  they  are 
not  busied  with  the  frivolous  and  fantastic  incidents 
of  a  day,  but  that  they  look  to  that  knowledge  which 
developes  and  enlarges  all  the  capacities  of  man; 
which  dwindles  the  distance  between  the  denizens 
of  earth  and  the  higher  intelligences  of  heaven; 
and  which  not  only  receives  its  own  form  and 
fashion  from  the  character  of  the  people  and  the  times, 
but,  as  the  sea  answers  to  the  sun,  serves  as  a  mirror 
in  which  those  people  and  times  are  properly  reflected 
for  their  own  gratification  and  improvement,  and 
which  flings  back  upon  them  a  reforming  and  beuti- 
fying  lustre  not  primitively  their  own  Such  is  the 
Literature  of  which  a  nation  may  be  proud.  Such  was 
the  view  the  Abbe  Eollin  took,  when  he  included  in 
his  course  of  lectures,  at  the  University  of  Paris,  upon 
Belles-lettres,  the  whole  circle  of  ancient  and  modern 
learning,  and  such  too  is  the  order  of  Literature, 
which  I  am  sure  I  shall  have  your  warmest  sympathies, 
in  predicting,  from  her  natural,  political  and  social 
characteristics,  for  the  Southwest.  That  the  period  is 
distant  when  we  shall  have  such  a  Literature,  is  per 
haps  true ;  but  that  it  will  come  is  as  certain  as  that 
we  shall  arrive  at  great  agricultural,  commercial  and 
political  power.  You,  Gentlemen,  may  not  live  to  see 
it;  but  by  using  your  exertions,  throughout  life,  to 


THE    SOUTHWEST.  69 

develope  and  improve  the  intellectual  resources  of  our 
region,  to  disseminate  a  just  appreciation  and  taste  for 
the  higher  branches  of  learning,  and  to  teach  our  peo 
ple  that  there  is  something  more  valuable  and  exalting 
in  life — something  better  suited  to  the  destiny  of 
beings  whose  immortality,  has  already  begun — than 
the  mere  arts  of  traffic  and  amassing  money — you 
may  accelerate  the  dawn  of  this  ennobling  period — 
may  produce  a  "  circle  in  the  waters,"  which  unlike 
the  emblem  of  ambition,  will  not  break  by  its  own 
extension ! 

When  this  period  shall  arrive,  our  section  of  the 
Union  will  be  in  its  full  power  and  glory  ;  our  history, 
our  character,  our  capacities,  will  be  properly  under 
stood  and  appreciated.  We  may  then  expect  to  see 
our  orators  occupying  the  most  conspicuous  stations  in 
the  chambers  of  National  Eloquence :  our  authors 
illuminating  the  age  by  the  philosophy  and  beauty 
of  their  productions.  Then,  perhaps,  the  Genius  of 
Immortality  shall — as  in  the  beautiful  emblematic 
device  of  your  own  Society — place  the  wreath  of  Fame 
upon  the  brow  of  many  a  native  Franklin :  and  then 
the  voice  of  Poetry — not  in  her  character  as  a  prophet, 
but  as  a  historian — shall  fitly  exclaim,  in  the  slightly 
altered  language  of  an  accomplished  female  writer  of 
our  own  state : 

1  That,  not  for  northern  latitudes  alone, 
The  stars  of  virtue  and  of  Genius  shone ; 
These,  moving  onward  from  our  country's  birth 
To  bless,  successive,  all  its  spots  of  earth, 
Shed  their  full  beams'  their  brightest,  and  their  best, 
Upon  the  regions  of  the  sweet  Southwest.'' 


CLAIMS  AND  CHARACTERISTICS 

OF 

ALABAMA    HISTORY: 

AN  OKATION 

BEFORE  THE  HISTORICAL  SOCIETY  OP  ALABAMA, 

AT   ITS 

SUnibersarg  at  Suscaloosa,  $ufo  0,  1855. 


ORATION. 


GENTLEMEN  : 

The  most  elegant  of  Koman  historians,  in  the  intro 
duction  to  one  of  his  memorable  works,  complains  of 
the  want,  in  his  time,  of  associated  effort  for  the  col 
lection  and  preservation  of  the  elements  of  history. 
He  tells  us  that  to  individual  enterprise  it  was  almost  ex- 
exclusively  left  to  gather  and  perpetuate  the  memorials 
of  the  past,  the  records  of  distingushed  achievements, 
and  "the  images  of  those  illustrious  men,  whose  exam 
ples  powerfully  animate  to  virtue,  and  enkindle  an  inex 
tinguishable  flame  of  emulation  in  the  breasts  of  their 
descendants."  Thus,  the  cultivated  era  of  Sallust  had 
not  the  advantages  of  Historical  Societies.  These,  the 
most  powerful  auxiliaries  of  the  recording  pen,  are  the 
product  of  a  period  of  more  extended  intellectual  re 
finement.  It  is  in  comparatively  modern  times,  that 
the  lovers  of  historical  composition, — the  generous 
minds  who  would  chronicle  the  deeds  and  virtues  of 
their  ancestors  ;  the  growth,  progress  and  renown  of 


74 "  OKATIONS. 

their  country ;  the  advancement  of  the  arts  and  sciences; 
the  diffusion  of  light,  liberty,  and  literature;  the 
amelioration  of  humanity,  and  all  the  other  chequered 
events  and  influences,,  which  form  the  life  of  a  people 
— leaving  lessons  of  instruction  for  the  future, — have 
availed  themselves  of  the  obviously  vast  advantages 
derivable  from  communion  in  the  prosecution  of  their 
laudable  efforts.  Historical  Societies  are  the  most 
efficient  agencies  ever  established  for  the  accurate  and 
comprehensive  preparation  of  history.  They  not  only 
seize  upon  the  fleeting  memorials  temporis  acti, — so  as 
to  present  the  very  form  and  body  of  the  time,  more 
faithfully  and  fully,  than  individual  ministry  could 
perform, — but  they  rectify,  in  the  light  of  common 
perceptions,  the  errors  of  conflicting  accounts,  the  ob 
liquities  of  personal  vision,  and  the  crudities  and 
inconsistencies  of  partialities,  prejudices  and  passions, 
and  serve,  at  the  same  time,  the  lofty  offices  of  critical 
judgment  and  historic  philosophy.  Such  at  least 
would  be  the  character  and  functions  of  such  associa 
tions  if  they  were  properly  conducted. 

To  every  country  its  own  history  is  of  prime  impor 
tance.  Upon  this,  its  national  character  and  its  na 
tional  sentiments  depend.  Patriotism,  the  first  of 
civic  virtues,  can  have  no  intelligent  basis,  beyond  a 
blind  instinct,  save  in  a  just  appreciation  of  the  excel 
lences  which  have  marked  the  career  of  a  country  ;— 
of  the  services,  sufferings,  and  devotion  of  its  sons  ;  of 
the  justice,  beauty  and  utility  of  its  institutions  ;  of 
its  adaptation  to  the  wants  of  civilized  society,  and  of 
the  lessons  of  heroism,  philanthropy,  and  intellectual 


ALABAMA    HISTORY.  75 

and  moral  grandeur  which  its  annals  present.  How 
essential  then,  to  every  State  or  nation  which  aspires 
to  be  more  than  a  mere  Zahara  in  history,  that  its  records 
should  be  compiled  and  embodied,  and  its  chronicles, — 
vivified  and  embellished  by  the  touches  of  genius, — be 
rendered  imperishable  monuments  for  future  ages. 

To  aid  in  this  great  object  is,  I  repeat,  the  chief 
office  and  excellence  of  Historical  Associations.  The 
Society,  whose  anniversary  we  commemorate,  though 
but  yet  in  its  infancy;  is  one  of  these.  The  American 
States,  in  their  confederated  nationality,  present  the 
proudest  manifestation  of  man's  moral  grandeur,  in  a 
political  organism,  ever  yet  given  to  the  world.  Each 
of  these  States,  though  they  blend  in  historical  as  in 
political  analogies,  has  a  history  of  its  own,  peculiar  in 
its  parts,  and  demanding  separate  illustration.  This 
has  led  to  separate  histories  of  our  several  republics, 
and  in  most  of  them  to  the  establishment  of  Historical 
Societies.  Massachusetts,  New  York,  Pennsylvania 
and  Virginia,  have  had  such  institutions  for  near  half 
a  century,  and  their  scholars,  statesmen  and  worthies 
of  every  class,  have  taken  especial  pride  in  contributing 
to  their  advancement  and  prosperity.  How  many  me 
morials  of  the  fickle  fortunes  of  the  times,  of  the  tran 
sitory  but  yet  interesting  incidents  of  the  day,  of  the 
services,  sacrifices,  trials  and  triumphs  of  heroes,  states 
men,  orators,  philosophers  and  divines,  have  thus  been 
rescued  from  the  remorseless  jaws  of  time,  which,  like 
another  Saturn,  loves  to  devour  his  own  progeny. 

Other  and  younger  States  have  also  their  flourishing 
Historical  Societies.  I  will  but  mention  those  of 


76  ORATIONS. 

Georgia  and  Louisiana,  our  neighboring  sisters,  whose 
institutions,,  though  recently  established,  have  contri 
buted  largely  to  the  fund  of  historic  knowledge,  par 
ticularly  as  relates  to  their  own  territories.  They  have 
garnered  from  the  waste  and  perishing  harvests  of  the 
past,  much  useful  and  interesting  information,  and  the 
light  from  these  sources,  shed  over  the  incidents  of 
their  colonial  period,  invests  them  with  an  interest 
that  fascinates  the  student,  and  makes  him  linger  with 
delight  over  the  career  of  Oglethorpe,  or  the  still  more 
wonderful  adventures  of  Marquette  and  La  Salle. 

To  appreciate  how  much  Historical  Societies  may 
do,  for  the  furtherance  of  History  in  its  most  elevated 
sense,  let  us  glance  at  the  materials  which  properly 
enter  into  and  compose  their  collections.  Their  libra 
ries  embrace  all  the  rare  and  curious  books,  charts  and 
manuscripts,  which  illustrate  or  bear  upon  the  discov 
ery,  exploration,  first  settlement  and  future  fortunes  of 
the  State.  All  the  materials,  however  minute  or 
ephemeral,  from  which  the  great  narrative  of  events  is 
subsequently  to  be  framed,  are  thus  collected  together. 
Biographies  of  individuals  of  all  classes,  local  histo 
ries  and  sketches,  transactions  and  journals  of  pub 
lic  assemblages,  proceedings  of  legislative  bodies, 
laws,  ordinances,  discussions,  and  debates,  judicial  trials 
and  decisions,  statistics,  essays  and  addresses,  periodi 
cal  publications,  magazines,  reviews  and  newspapers, — 
those  "  brief  abstracts  and  chronicles  of  the  time," — 
all  these, — the  elements  of  History — are  gathered  and 
preserved  by  such  associations  as  this.  They  are  the 
disjecta  membra,  which  some  future  Prometheus  is  to 


ALABAMA   HISTORY.  77 

combine  and  harmonize,  and  inform  with  that  fire  from 
heaven — the  Godlike  flame  of  Genius. 

For  no  portion  of  our  country  is  such  an  associa 
tion  so  important  as  for  our  own  State  of  Alabama. 
This  Society  has  before  it  as  inviting  a  field  and  as 
potent  inducements  as  are  presented  in  any  other  mem 
ber  of  the  Union.  Though  ours  is  but  one  of  the 
younger  States  ;  though  she  has  no  Kevolutionary 
heraldry  ;  though  the  dynasty  of  the  wilderness,  with 
its  red  and  roving  tenants,  has  but  recently  passed  by  ; 
though  two-score  years  have  not  elapsed  since  the 
establishment  of  our  Constitution  ;  and  though  but  a 
small  part  of  our  adult  population  are  natives  of  the 
soil, — yet  Alabama  has  a  history  as  extended  and 
remarkable,  as  diversified  and  romantic,  as  abounding 
in  strange  particulars  and  incidents,  as  full  of  the  most 
wonderful  phases  and  contrasts  of  human  life  in  savage 
and  civilized  conditions,  and  as  marked  by  the  bloody 
struggles  of  contending  forces,  as  any  other  part  of  our 
country  ;  and  over  this  wide  field,  so  picturesque  and 
attractive,  hangs  a  misty  veil, — a  morning  fog,  wreathed 
around  its  hills  and  vallies, — which  the  first  dawn 
of  the  sun  of  historical  research  has  not  entirely  lifted 
from  its  repose,  so  as  to  render  luminous  with  golden 
rays,  the  attractive  regions  beyond. 

The  mission  of  the  Alabama  Historical  Society  is  to 
penetrate  this  terra  incognita,  and  to  bring  its  hidden 
places  to  light.  Your  scope  includes  the  whole  extent 
of  our  history  from  its  earliest  discoverable  period  to 
the  present  day.  You  stand,  in  some  sort  as  De  Soto 
did,  three  hundred  and  fifteen  years  ago,  with  his  steel- 


78  OKATIONS. 

clad  chivalry — his  centaur-like  warriors,  and  his  white 
stoled  priests,  upon  the  borders  of  our  unexplored  ter 
ritory.  Far  as  his  eagle-eyes  can  pierce,  from  the  last 
elevated  spur  of  the  Look-out  Mountains,  he  beholds 
a  virgin  wilderness  of  all  forests,  intersected,  like 
lines  of  silver,  by  giant  rivers,  along  whose  banks  rove, 
in  savage  and  defiant  magnificence,  the-  most  powerful 
of  all  the  primeval  races  that  tenanted  this  continent. 
His  purpose  is  to  explore,  to  conquer,  and  to  reduce 
to  the  uses  of  civilized  man,  those  boundless  regions,  in 
which  he  fondly  thought  to  find  the  golden  treasures 
of  Mexico  and  Peru,  or  the  still  more  precious  waters  of 
the  Fountain  of  Youth, which  was  to  restore  his  decaying 
faculties  and  give  him  an  immortality  upon  earth.  The 
fabulous  narratives  of  Ponce  de  Leon,  and  Pamphilo 
Narvaez,  had  thus  brought  the  lingering  remnants  of 
the  Age  of  Chivalry — of  the  Flower  of  Spanish 
Knighthood — to  expend  their  last  waves  upon  the 
Indian-guarded  forests  of  Alabama. 

With  far  different  objects,  but  in  certain  similitudes 
of  research,  you  stand  upon  the  borders  of  Alabama 
history.  It  is  yours  to  bring  to  light  all  that  con 
cerns  the  primeval  condition  of  our  territory — to  trace, 
with  the  first  explorers,  their  blood-stained  paths, 
along  our  winding  rivers  and  through  the  heart  of 
the  mighty  wilderness ;  to  fight  over  with  them  again 
their  sanguinary  battles  ;  to  view  the  wild  and  roman 
tic  aboriginal  races  contest  with  the  invader 
every  inch  of  the  soil ;  to  hear  that  first  of  patriot 
warrriors,  the  unconquerable  TUSCALOOSA,  peal  forth 
his  kingly  battle-cry ;  and  to  see  him  die  with  more 


ALABAMA    HISTORY.  79 

than  the  grandeur  of  Sardanapalus,  amidst  the  flames 
of  his  sacked  and  suffering  city — the  first  city  of 
Mobile.  What  a  field  of  historic  research  thus  opens 
up,  even  in  this  imperfect  view !  The  veil  is  now 
lifted  from  the  condition  of  the  first  possessors  of  our 
territory.,  and  their  long  and  curious  career,  pregnant 
with  enigmas,  and  often  as  silent  as  the  Sphinx  of  the 
Sands,  presents  itself  for  philosophic  investigation. 
Coming  on  down  through  the  successive  eras  of  French, 
British,  Spanish,  and  Anglo- American  colonization  and 
possession,  what  shifting  and  motley  hues  are  exhib 
ited  in  the  kaleidoscope  of  our  past.  These  are  the 
domains  of  the  Alabama  Historical  Society.  To  col 
lect  the  confused  and  scattered  accounts  of  these  times 
long  gone  ;  to  draw,  from  the  slumbering  Herculaneums 
of  French,  Spanish,  and  British  archives,  the  original 
narratives  and  reports  of  the  first  European  explorers 
and  occupants,  and  render  them  accessible  in  our  ver 
nacular  ;  to  garner  the  fast  fading  memorials  of  our 
Indian  progenitors ;  and  from  a  later  day,  to  draw 
forth,  embody,  and  compile,  appropriate  narratives  of 
the  adventures  of  the  pioneers  of  the  present  popu 
lation,  as  they  gradually,  through  wars  and  perils, 
and  trials  of  every  kind,  passed  into  the  bosom 
of  our  State,  hewed  down  the  wilderness,  opened  the 
broad  and  fertile  fields,  laid  the  foundation  of  social 
comfort,  and  civic  prosperity,  and  eventually  organized 
a  State  Constitution,  distinguished  above  all  others 
for  its  guarantees  to  freedom  of  conscience,  freedom  of 
thought,  freedom  of  speech,  and  freedom  of  individual 
action—  to  gather  and  perpetuate  the  evidences  and 


80  ORATIONS. 

mementoes  of  all  this,  are  the  functions,  the  opportu 
nities  and  the  duties  of  this  associatson. 

Will  any  one  say  that  the  field  of  Alabama  History 
is  devoid  of  interest  and  attractiveness,  and  unworthy 
of  cultivation  ?  A  superficial  glance  at  its  leading 
phases  would  refute  the  assertion.  I  think  that,  even 
in  the  limited  space  allowed  me  now,  I  can  show  you 
that,  in  all  the  elements  which  render  history  valuable  ; 
in  contributions  to  a  knowledge  of  human  nature  under 
most  novel  and  remarkable  circumstances  ;  in  the  pre 
sentation  of  the  finest  materials  for  literary  performance, 
alike  in  prose  romance,  and  all  the  departments  of  poet 
ry;  and  in  the  possession  of  the  noblest  subjects  for  the 
graceful  offices  of  painting  and  sculpture,  our  past  is 
truly  classic  ground,  and  that  there  the  genius  of  Fresco tt 
and  Irving,  of  Scott  and  Cooper,  Allston  and  Weir, 
of  Powers  and  Crawford,  might  have  found  the  richest 
opportunities  for  its  exercise.  I  will  glance  along  at 
a  few  passages  which  will  illustrate  my  argument,  and 
may,  at  the  same  time,  bring  to  light,  times,  events 
and  personages  which  the  recording  pencil  has  not 
yet  delineated  or  developed. 

Some  of  the  most  remarkable  and  romantic  chapters 
in  our  history  have  already  been  frequently  portrayed. 
The  story  of  De  Soto,  at  which  I  have  glanced,  is  fa 
miliar  to  all.  I  shall  not  dwell  upon  it,  but  only  re 
mark,  that  in  my  estimate,  it,  above  all  others,  affords 
the  best  opportunity  for  a  great  American  Epic.  The 
fierce  and  fiery  chivalry  of  Spain,  with  gleaming  hel 
mets,  and  ringnig  armor,  with  champing  steeds,  and 
waving  banners, — accompanied  by  a  pious  priesthood 


ALABAMA    HISTORY.  81 

ever  bearing  aloft  the  symbol  of  Christianity, — push 
ing  its  way,  like  the  path  of  some  great  fiery  dragon, 
through  the  immemorial  homes  of  the  ever  hostile  and 
untamable  savage,  whose  superstitions  were  all  as  gro 
tesque,  as  his  traditions,  his  manners  and  customs 
were  marvellous, — all  this,  through  the  noblest  region 
that  the  sun  ever  illuminated,  still  in  its  fresh  and  un 
shorn  verdure, — presents  a  theme  from  which  the 
genius  of  a  Homer  would  have  framed  more  than  an 
Odyssey,  and  the  warrior-harp  of  Tasso  would  have 
kindled  into  as  glowing  verses  as  celebrated  the  Deliv 
ery  of  Jerusalem.  Some  youthful  American  Homer, 
not  blind  like  old  Mseonides,  but  eagle-eyed  and  fiery- 
hearted,  may  yet  "  fling  a  poem,  like  a  comet  forth," 
worthy  of  this  great  Pilgrimage,  and  of  the  genius  of 
our  country.  Meanwhile,  Powell,  a  native  painter,  has 
given  us,  in  a  great  Historical  picture,  the  "  Discov 
ery  of  the  Mississippi,  by  De  Soto,"  which  deserves  its 
conspicuous  place  in  our  national  Pantheon  at  Wash 
ington. 

The  period  of  the  possession  of  Alabama  by  the 
French,  is  replete  with  remarkable  occurrences  and  ro 
mantic  details.  They  came  with  the  closing  months 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  held  for  sixty-five 
years.  Besides  their  principal  settlement  at  Mobile, 
they  had  military  and  trading  posts,  at  Fort  Toulouse, 
near  the  junction  of  the  Coosa  and  Tallapoosa,  on  the 
recent  site  of  Fort  Jackson  ;  at  the  mouth  of  the  Ca- 
hawba  ;  at  Jones^  Bluff,  on  the  Tombeckbee  ;  at  the 
present  site  of  Saint  Stephens  ;  at  Nashville,  on  the 
Cumberland ;  and  at  the  Muscle  Shoals,  on  the  Ten- 


82  OKATIONS. 

nessee,  tlien  called  the  Cherokee  river.  The  erection 
and  intercourse  of  these  several  stations,  and  their  deal 
ings  with  the  Indians  were  constantly  attended  by  diffi 
culties,  perils,  massacres  and  conflicts,  of  the  most 
exciting  character.  The  French  traders  and  mission 
aries  were  ever  bold,  adventurous  and  enterprising,  and 
it  is  not  extravagant  to  say  that  every  inch  of  our  terri 
tory  was  trod  by  their  feet,  if  not  watered  by  their  blood, 
more  than  a  hundred  years  ago.  Numerous  wars  were 
also  kept  up  with  the  Indian  tribes,  exhibiting  instan 
ces  of  heroism  upon  both  parts.  But  I  cannot  notice 
them  at  present.  Time  will  only  allow  me  to  dwell 
upon  some  of  the  general  characteristics  of  the  French 
inhabitants,  who  varied  in  number,  during  this  pro 
tracted  period,  from  three  hundred  to  three  thousand 
persons,  dwelling  principally  at  Mobile.  They  were  a 
gay,  light-hearted,  adventurous  population.  From  the 
first,  their  national  flexibility  and  vivacity  of  temper 
enabled  them,  with  conspicuous  facility,  to  ingratiate 
themselves  with  the  Indian  tribes.  Their  young  men 
readily  adopted  the  manners,  tastes  and  pursuits  of 
the  wilderness,  and  soon  became  as  expert  woodmen, 
hunters,  and  trappers,  as  the  natives  themselves. 
Many  a  "  Hawk-Eye"  or  "  Leather- Stocking"  was  to 
be  found  among  the  courieurs  de  bois  from  Mobile. 
Marriages,  temporary,  or  permanent,  with  the  lithe- 
limbed  maidens  of  the  Choctaws  or  Alabamas,  formed 
links  of  amity  and  influence,  and  gave  rise  to  mixed 
races,  long  after  clinging  to  their,  paternal  names. 
The  adventures  of  the  forest,  along  interminable  riv 
ers,  over  lofty  mountains,  or  across  flower-enameled 


ALABAMA    HISTORY.  83 

prairies,  whether  in  pursuit  of  furs  and  game,  or  in 
the  hazardous  enterprises  of  war  and  traffic,  or  with  the 
mild-minded  missionary  in  the  dissemination  of  the 
doctrines  of  the  Cross,  among  the  benighted  savages, 
furnished  fascinating  topics  of  narration,  with  which 
the  curiosity  of  the  women  and  children,  around  the 
domestic  hearth-stone,  was  regaled  upon  the  return 
of  the  adventurers.  The  body  of  the  population,  at 
Mobile,  were  however,  engaged  in  small  mercantile 
avocations,  and  the  constant  caravans  of  Indian  po 
nies,  laden  with  packs  and  kegs  and  tin-cups,  afiorded 
picturesque  evidences  of  their  inland  traffic.  Their 
persons,  their  houses,  their  tables  and  couches  were 
decorated  or  supplied  from  the  spoils  of  the  chase,  in 
contrast  with  the  embellishments  of  French  finery. 
The  construction  of  the  town  facilitated  the  nimble 
conversations,  across  the  narrow  huddled  street,  from 
door  to  door  of  the  low  wide-eaved  houses.  The 
days  were  generally  spent  in  industry  ;  the  evenings  in 
dancing  and  merriment.  Many  of  the  colonists  had 
been  gentlemen  in  France  ;  some  of  them  of  noble  or 
igin  ;  and  most  of  them  had  pursued  military  careers. 
Spirited  and  adventurous,  they  had  their  packs  of  dogs, 
their  guns,  their  boats,  their  Indian  beauties,  with  the 
influence  of  a  voluptuous  climate,  and  the  boundless 
opportunities  and  invitations  of  a  new  world,  fresh  and 
blooming,  to  provoke  and  minister  to  their  desires  and 
imaginations.  These  were  the  Arcadian  clays  of  the 
French  regime,  and  such  in  part,  were  the  characteris 
tics  of  the  population  of  Mobile,  an  hundred  years 
!  Tempora  mulantur,  et  nos  mutamur  in  illis! 


84  ORATIONS. 

What  mind  is  there,  but  must  be  destitute  of  imagi 
nation,  that  does  not  find  in  times  and  scenes  and  con 
ditions  like  these, — in  the  picturesque  contrasts  be 
tween  the  colonists  and  their  savage  neighbors ;  in 
their  wars,  skirmishes,  captivities,  and  perilous  adven 
tures  ;  in  the  fearless  Jesuit  or  the  bare-footed  Car 
melite  threading  the  wilderness  to  propagate  the  tenets 
of  his  creed  ;  and  in  the  countless  diversities  of  indi 
vidual  character,  the  finest  materials  for  fictitious 
composition.  What  a  series  of  romances,  equalling  in 
interest  the  Waverley  Novels,  might  be  founded  upon 
the  single  career  of  the  gallant  and  chivalrous  Bienville, 
during  the  many  vicissitudes  of  his  administration  as 
Governor,  for  more  than  forty  years.  He  was  the 
heroic  founder  of  Alabama — the  Father  of  our  State. 
The  incidents  of  its  early  history  cluster  around  him, 
like  the  leaves  of  the  oak  around  their  parent  stem,  and 
the  historian  or  the  novelist  can  scarcely  have  a  finer 
theme  than  to  depict  his  character  and  career. 

The  autumn  of  1763  saw  the  dominion  of  Mobile 
and  its  appendages  in  the  interior  pass  from  France  to 
Great  Britain.  They  were  a  part  of  the  acquisitions 
of  the  Seven  Years'  War,  which  lost  to  France  all  her 
possessions  in  North  America.  The  newly  acquired 
territory  was  made  a  part  of  West  Florida,  with 
George  Johnston,  a  captain  in  the  Navy,  as  Governor. 
Mobile  was  taken  possession  of,  on  the  20th  of 
October,  by  Major  Robert  Farmer,  as  the  agent  of  the 
King.  A  regiment  of  Scotch  Highlanders,  under  Col. 
Robertson,  was  sent  to  garrison  Fort  Conde.  They 
arrived  from  Pensacola,  by  way  of  the  Bay.  The  act 


ALABAMA    HISTORY.  85 

of  transfer  was  signalized  by  appropriate  ceremonies. 
The  Scottish  bag-pipes  sounded  the  national  anthem 
of  England,  as  the  lillies  of  St.  Denys  were  lowered 
from  the  flag-staff  of  Fort  Conde,  and  the  lion  of  St. 
George  elevated  in  their  stead  :  and  a  feu  dejoie  an 
nounced  that  the  name  of  the  fortress,  in  compliment 
to  the  Queen  of  Great  Britain,  was  changed  to  Fort 
Charlotte.  Soon  after,  for  the  purposes  of  civil  juris 
diction,  that  portion  of  the  province  west  of  the  Per- 
dido,  as  far  as  Pearl  river,  was  erected  into  a  county, 
called  after  the  same  princess,  Charlotte  County  ;  and 
appropriate  judicial  and  ministerial  officers  were  ap 
pointed.  Some  of  the  papers  executed  at  this  period, 
and  evincing  these  facts,  are  now  among  the  records 
of  the  Probate  Court  of  Mobile  County. 

The  period  of  British  possession  embraces  twenty 
years,  and  includes  the  era  of  the  American  Revolution. 
As  from  this  fact  it  has  a  peculiar  interest,  and  has 
never  been  described  by  any  writer,  1  may  add  some 
thing  to  the  fund  of  historic  knowledge,  by  dwelling 
more  protractedly  upon  a  few  of  its  leading  incidents 
than  would  otherwise  be  appropriate.  It  may,  how 
ever,  be  remarked  that  we  have  but  little  accessible 
information  as  to  the  condition  and  progress  of  affairs 
at  Mobile  and  in  the  interior,  during  the  dynasty  of 
the  British,  for  when  they  evacuated  the  province, 
some  years  after,  they  carried  with  them  all  the  doc 
uments  referring  to  this  period,  and  deposited  them  in 
Somerset  House,  London,  "  where  according  to  positive 
information,"  says  the  Spanish  Surveyor  General,  Vin 
cent  Pintado,  they  were  to  be  found  in  1817,  and  un- 


86  ORATIONS. 

doubteclly  still  remain.  Would  it  not  be  an  object 
worthy  of  your  association,  Gentlemen,  to  endeavor  to 
obtain  copies  of  these  papers  ?  Meanwhile,  we  must 
grope  our  way  through  obscure  chronicles  and  incidental 
allusions,  for  any  information  as  to  this  period. 

The  first  British  governor  of  Alabama,  Major  Robert 
Farmer,  appears  to  have  been  a  personage  of  marked 
peculiarities  of  character,  and,  if  we  may  credit  the  por 
traiture  of  a  French  cotemporary  at  New  Orleans, 
would  form  a  not  unfit  companion-piece  for  the  Knick 
erbocker  functionaries  of  Irving, — Walter  Yon  T wilier, 
and  Peter  Stuyvesant.  Aubry,  writing  to  the  French 
government,  (May  16,  1765,)  says  :  "  The  correspon 
dence  which  I  am  obliged  to  have  with  the  English, 
who  write  to  me  from  all  parts,  and  particularly  with 
the  governor  of  Mobile,  gives  me  serious  occupation. 
This  governor  is  an  extraordinary  man.  As  he  knows 
that  I  speak  English,  he  occasionally  writes  to  me  in 
verse.  He  speaks  to  me  of  Francis  I.  and  Charles  V. 
He  compares  Pontiak,  an  Indian  chief,  with  Mithri- 
dates  ;  he  says  that  he  goes  to  bed  with  Montesquieu. 
When  there  occur  some  petty  dfficulties  between  the 
inhaitants  of  New  Orleans  and  Mobile,  he  quotes  to 
me  from  the  Great  Charter  (Magna  Charta)  and  the 
laws  of  Great  Britain.  It  is  said  that  the  English 
Ministry  sent  him  to  Mobile,  to  get  rid  of  him,  because 
he  was  one  of  the  hottest  in  the  opposition.  He  pays 
me  handsome  compliments,  which  I  duly  return  him, 
and,  upon  the  whole,  he  is  a  man  of  parts,  but  a  dan 
gerous  neighbor,  against  whom  it  is  well  to  be  on  one's 
guard/' 


ALABAMA    HISTORY.  87 

This  is  certainly  a  graphic  sketch  of  the  poetical  and 
classical  predecessor  of  the  later  Chief  Magistrates  of 
our  State. 

The  first  step  of  the  new  authorities  was  to  take 
possession  of  the  military  and  trading  establishments 
in  the  interior,  which  had  been  partially  dismantled  by 
the  retiring  French.  Tombeckbee,  now  Jones'  Bluff, 
was  delivered  to  Captain  Thomas  Ford  on  the  20th  of 
November  ;  and  a  garrison  was  soon  after  placed  in 
Fort  Toulouse.  These  stations  respectively  comman 
ded  the  intercourse  with  the  Choctaw  and  Creek  In 
dians. 

The  spring  of  the  next  year  saw  at  Mobile,  one  of 
the  largest  assemblages  of  aboriginal  chiefs  and  war 
riors,  ever  collected  in  our  country.  It  was  a  congress 
of  the  head-men  of  all  the  tribes  south  of  the  Ohio, 
convened  to  meet  Capt.  John  Stewart,  the  British 
Superintendent  of  Indian  Affairs  in  the  South.  The 
career  of  this  functionary  is  a  romance  of  thrilling  in 
terest.  He  was  one  of  the  few  survivors  of  the  terrible 
massacre  at  Fort  Loudon,  on  the  Tennessee,  having 
been  spared  by  reason  of  his  popularity  with  the  sava 
ges.  The  chiefs  now  flocked  to  meet  him  to  the  num 
ber  of  more  than  two  thousand,  and,  with  their  fantas 
tic  equipments,  presented  a  most  imposing  spectacle 
of  savage  grandeur.  They  were  encamped  for  many 
days  within  sight  of  the  frowning  battlements  of  Fort 
Charlotte.  The  Superintendent  was  a  man  of  elo 
quence  and  shrewdness,  as  well  as  of  great  experience 
and  knowledge  of  Indian  character,  and  he  delivered 
an  able  speech,  still  oxtant,  in  Hewitt's  History  of 


ORATIONS. 

Carolina,  which  had  a  powerful  influence  on  all  the 
tribes,  and  induced  them  to  enter  into  the  desired 
treaty  with  the  British.  Only  the  Six  Lower  Towns 
of  the  Choctaws,  and  some  of  the  contiguous  Creeks 
dissented,  and  preferred  following  the  banner  of  the 
French  to  the  west  of  the  Mississippi.  Thus  the  many 
scattered  and  nomadic  villages  of  Alabama  and  Missis 
sippi  Indians — the  Tensaws,  Biloxis,  Pascagoulas,  and 
Alabamas, — which  have  bewildered  some  speculative 
historians, — made  their  homes  in  Louisiana. 

Liberal  grants  of  public  land  were  speedily  made, 
by  the  British  authorities,  to  induce  settlements  in  the 
interior.  These  I  cannot  stop  to  note.  But  among 
the  earliest  beneficiaries  of  the  governmental  bounty, 
was  a  colony  of  French  Protestants,  whose  amiable 
characters  and  melancholy  fortunes  give  them  a  pecu 
liar  interest.  Their  story  is  but  little  less  romantic 
than  that  of  the  French  Emigrants  in  Marengo,  with 
which  you  are  familiar. 

Anxious  to  secure  that  dearest  of  earthly  privileges, 
— "  freedom,  to  worship  God," — they  solicited,  under 
the  patronage  of  the  provincial  governor,  and  received 
from  the  King  of  Great  Britain,  a  large  grant  of  land 
upon  the  Escambia  river.  This  they  undertook  to 
cultivate  with  the  olive,  vine  and  mulberry,  and  with 
rice,  indigo,  and  tobacco, — staples  whose  culture  the 
government  was  solicitous  to  promote.  To  the  num 
ber  of  sixteen  leading  families,  embracing  sixty-nine 
persons,  male  and  female,  many  of  them  educated,  in 
telligent  and  refined,  accompanied  by  carpenters,  coo 
pers,  blacksmiths,  tanners,  and  other  artisans,  to  the 


ALABAMA    HISTORY.  89 

number  of  two  hundred  and  nine,  they  were  transpor 
ted  in  the  spring  of  1767,  at  the  royal  expense,  to  their 
concession.  At  once  they  entered  industriously  upon 
the  purposes  of  their  emigration.  Their  white  cottages 
rose  amid  the  live-oak  groves  of  the  region,  and  the 
spire  of  the  little  neighborhood  church  pointed  its  fin 
ger  of  Protestant  faith  to  the  sky.  But  unfortunately 
the  next  summer  and  autumn  proved  one  of  those 
fatal  seasons  of  visitation  from  "  the  yellow  tyrant  of 
the  tropics,"  and  well-nigh  all  of  this  interesting  colony 
fell  victims  to  that  terrible  disease.  The  Arcadian 
scheme  of  Agricultural  life  was  totally  destroyed,  and 
the  few  survivors  made  their  way  to  Pensacola  or  Mo 
bile,  to  lament  their  friends  and  seek  for  more  salubri 
ous  scenes  of  employment.  What  materials  for  descrip 
tion  and  pathetic  delineation  would  the  genial  pens  of 
a  Mitford,  a  Crabbe,  or  a  AVilson  have  found  in  this 
simple  narrative  from  the  Lights  and  Shadows  of  Ala 
bama  Life  ! 

The  period  of  the  American  Eevolution  was  now  at 
hand ;  and  it  will  be  interesting  to  learn  what  relation 
our  colonists  held  to  that  great  movement.  The 
inhabitants  of  Mobile  and  Pensacola,  as  well  as  of 
East  Florida,  were  united  in  interest,  and  had  but 
little  intercourse  or  sympathy  with  the  other  British 
colonies.  They  were  too  weak,  too  isolated,  and  felt 
too  sensibly  the  gurdian  care  of  the  parent  government, 
to  desire  independence.  Accounts  of  the  earlier  strug 
gles  of  the  Eevolution  reached  them,  but  only  produced 
a  smile  of  derision  at  the  "  Bostonian  Liberty  Boys/' 
as  the  patriots  were  termed.  A  few  ardent  spirits  got 


90  OKATIONS. 

up  a  remonstrance  against  local  grievances  and  the 
proceedings  of  Peter  Chester,  the  Governor,  and  trans 
mitted  it  to  the  British  ministry ;  but  it  was  utterly- 
disregarded.  Still  the  people  could  not  be  induced  to 
unite  in  the  rebellion  of  the  other  colonies.  Various 
efforts  were  made  by  Captain  James  Willing,  of  Phil 
adelphia,  and  Oliver  Pollock,  the  agents  of  the  Conti 
nental  Congress,  to  seduce  them  from  their  allegiance. 
These  gentlemen  came  by  way  of  New  Orleans  to 
Mobile,  and  circulated  clandestinely,  many  copies  of 
the  Declaration  of  Independence.  But  the  effort  was 
a  bortive.  After  many  narrow  escapes,  Captain  Willing 
was  at  length  apprehended  through  the  vigilance  of  the 
British  officers,  and  was  kept  closely  confined,  a  part 
of  the  time  in  irons,  in  the  stone  Keep  of  Fort 
Charlotte.  He  came  near  expiating  his  temerity  upon 
a  gallows  in  the  plaza  in  front  of  that  fortress,  but  was 
eventually  exchanged  at*  the  close  of  the  year  1779, 
for  Colonel  Hamilton  of  Detroit,  a  British  officer,  upon 
whom  our  government  had  retaliated  for  the  rigorous 
treatment  of  the  imprisoned  agent. 

But  the  inhabitants  of  Mobile,  though  they  would  not 
participate  in  the  struggle  for  Independence,  were  not 
to  be  exempt  from  the  ravages  of  war  attending  that 
event.  Spain  took  part  with  France  in  the  hostilities 
against  Great  Britain,  and  ordered  her  American  sub 
jects  to  join  in  the  conflict.  Galvez,  a  gallant  and 
gifted  officer,  was  Governor  of  Louisiana,  and  speedily 
seized  the  English  establishments  at  Baton  Bouge  and 
Fort  Bute,  on  Bayou  Manchac.  He  then  proceeded  to 
invest  Mobile,  with  an  army  of  two  thousand  men. 


ALABAMA   HISTORY.  91 

This  force,  finely  equipped,  and  provided  with  artillery, 
was  brought  in  vessels,  by  sea,  from  New  Orleans. 
Landing  below  Choctaw  Point,  Galvez  advanced  to  the 
assault  upon  Fort  Charlotte.  This  fortress  was  gar 
risoned  by  only  eighty  regular  troops,  but  they  were 
considerably  reinforced  by  the  inhabitants  who  took 
shelter  within  its  staunch  and  solid  stone  walls, 
which,  defended  by  British  troops,  were  not  to  be 
yielded  without  a  struggle.  The  Ked  Cross  at  the 
top  of  the  flag-staff  returned  a  stern  defiance  to  the 
summons  to  surrender. 

The  future  Viceroy  of  Mexico,  whose  name  is  so 
honored  in  Spanish  annals,  erected  his  batteries,  six  in 
number,  with  heavy  artillery,  to  the  north  and  west  of 
the  Fort.  The  intervening  houses  were  burned,  and  a 
spirited  cannonade  was  carried  on  for  several  days. 
At  length,  on  the  14th  of  March,  1780,  a  breach  in  the 
walls  had  been  effected,  and  the  commander  was  com 
pelled  to  capitulate.  Honorable  terms  were  allowed 
for  the  gallantry  of  the  defence ;  but  the  town  had  suf 
fered  severely  from  the  siege.  Among  the  dwellings 
destroyed,  was  the  handsome  residence  of  Major 
Robert  Farmer,  the  former  "  Governor,"  who  had  be 
come  a  rich  landholder,  but  had  died  a  short  time 
before. 

A  visitor  at  the  present  time  to  our  State  emporium 
would  scarcely  imagine  that  occurrences  like  these  had 
ever  happened  upon  its  wide  and  peaceful  site,  over 
built  with  graceful  edifices  and  adorned  with  flowering 
gardens ;  though  it  is  but  only  the  other  day  that,  in 
cutting  the  foundations  for  the  new  City  Market, 


92  ORATIONS. 

the  spade  of  the  laborer  encountered  the  still  solid 
relics  of  old  Fort  Conde,  which,  after  having  stood  for 
a  hundred  and  ten  years,  was  destroyed  by  the  orders  of 
the  American  Government,  that  the  ground  upon 
which  it  stood  might  be  used  for  more  civic  and  utili 
tarian  purposes. 

The  close  of  the  American  Revolution  left  Mobile 
and  its  dependencies  in  the  hands  of  Spain,  and  hers 
it  remained  for  thirty  years.  This  era  is  one  of  great 
interest,  and  full  of  events  that  increase  in  attractive 
ness,  as  they  approach  our  own  times.  But  I  must 
pass  them,  noticing  only  a  commercial  house  of  large 
capital  and  extensive  transactions,  which  had  sprung 
up  during  the  British  possession,  but  now  became  still 
more  powerful,  indeed  a  ruling  influence  in  the  whole 
Southwest.  It  was  known  under  the  firm-title  first, 
of  "Panton,  Leslie  &  Co./'  and  subsequently  of  "John 
Forbes  &  Co."  The  partners  were  intelligent  and 
enterprising  merchants  of  Scottish  origin,  and  had 
branches  of  their  house  at  Matanzas  and  Pensacola. 
They  owned  and  employed  many  vessels,  and  their 
principal  object  was  to  supply  the  Indians  with  every 
species  of  merchandize.  For  many  years  they  had 
carried  on  a  large  and  prosperous  business  ;  but  when 
Spain  took  possession  of  Florida,  it  became  a  part  of 
her  policy  to  obtain  the  exclusive  trade  of  the  Indians, 
by  drawing  it  off  from  the  English  of  Georgia  and 
South  Carolina.  For  this  end,  they  made  treaties 
with  the  Alabamas,  Choctaws,  and  Chickasaws,  to 
deal  only  with  some  one  Spanish  house,  to  be"  chosen 
by  their  chieik  Panton,  Leslie  &  Co.  secured  this 


ALABAMA   HISTORY.  93 

rich  privilege,  by  admitting,  as  a  secret  member  of 
their  firm,  Alexander  McGillivray,  the  celebrated  chief 
and  emperor  of  the  Creek  Confederacy.  This  was  the 
secret  of  the  influence  which  the  Spaniards  ever  retained 
over  that  powerful  chieftain,  and  which  the  authorities 
of  Georgia  and  the  General  Government,  with  Wash 
ington  at  its  head,  could  neither  understand  nor  de 
stroy,  and  it  led  to  the  many  bloody  hostilities  in  which 
they  were  involved  upon  the  frontiers. 

This  grasping  and  powerful  house  thus  established 
business  connections  with  all  the  Southern  Indians.  In 
every  tribe  and  quarter  they  had  their  agents  and  ped 
lars  ;  drew  constant  crowds  of  Indians  to  their  stores 
and  ware-houses  at  Mobile  and  Pensacola ;  granted  ex 
tensive  credits  to  chieftains  and  tribes  ;  despatched 
their  vessels  to  the  West  Indies  and  Europe,  laden  with 
peltries,  furs,  and  other  products  of  the  country ;  received 
returned  cargoes  of  every  variety  of  merchandize ; 
amassed  immense  profits ;  and  wielded  a  commercial 
power  and  influence  not  before  or  since  equaled  by  any 
one  house  in  either  of  the  emporiums  of  the  South. 
Some  of  the  partners  resided  at  Mobile,  throughout  the 
Spanish  period,  in  fine  residences,  elegantly  supplied 
with  the  luxuries  of  taste  and  comfort ;  and  they 
lived  in  a  style  of  princely  magnificence.  By  taking 
the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  Spanish  crown,  they 
secured  the  right  of  citizenship,  and  became  gran 
tees  of  large  tracts  of  land,  which  have  been  subjects 
of  frequent  legal  investigation  under  our  government. 
The  firm  was  at  first  composed  of  John  Forbes,  Wil 
liam  Pan  ton,  and  John  Leslie.  The  last  two  retiring, 


94  ORATIONS. 

John  and  James  Innerarity,  brothers,  became  members 
under  its  second  designation.  The  several  associates, 
excepting  McGrillivray,  were  all  related  by  either  con 
sanguinity  or  marriage,  and  were  connected  with 
wealthy  Spanish  families  in  Cuba. 

Towards  the  termination  of  its  existence,  this  opu 
lent  house  found  all  the  Indian  tribes  largely  in  its 
debt,  and  was  compelled  to  take  from  them  in  pay 
ment  extensive  tracts  of  land,  which  were  ceded  by 
treaty.  The  Choctaws,  thus  made  compensation  for  a 
debt  of  more  than  forty  thousand  dollars ;  and  the 
Lower  Creeks  and  Seminoles  (McGillivray  being  dead) 
granted,  in  liquidation  of  a  much  larger  debt,  a  million 
and  a  half  of  acres,  on  the  Apalachicola.  How  forcibly 
do  the  fortunes  of  this  house  verify,  even  in  the  primi 
tive  days  of  Alabama,  the  assertion  of  Carlyle,  that 
"Commerce  is  King!" 

The  lingering  dynasty  of  the  Spaniard  fades  into 
the  morning  dawn  of  Anglo-Saxon  settlements  in  our 
State.  The  hour  and  the  man  had  now  come  to  subdue 
and  possess  the  wilderness.  As  early  as  the  Revolution, 
large  bodies  of  the  unfortunate  adherents  of  the  British 
cause  had  fled  from  South  Carolina  and  Georgia, 
through  the  dense  and  pathless  forests  between,  to  the 
shores  of  the  Tombeckbee  and  Mobile  Bay.  They 
laid  the  first  foundations  of  American  inhabitancy  in 
the  counties  of  Clarke,  Washington,  and  Baldwin. 
Some  of  the  stragglers  lingered  on  the  way,  and  inter 
married  with  the  Creek  Indians,  giving  rise  to  the  half- 
breed  chieftains,  such  as  the  Mackintoshes,  the  Manacs, 
the  McQueens,  the  McGirks,  and  others  subsequently 


ALABAMA    HISTORY.  95 

winning  sanguinary  celebrities.  What  an  atmosphere 
of  romance  hangs  over  even  this  portion  of  our 
story;  hut  how  it  is  deepened  and  brightened  with 
sunnier  hues,  as  the  streams  of  population  now  pour 
in,  from  the  eastward,  through  savage  perils,  across 
giant  rivers,  and  through  unopened  woods,  to  the 
Southwestern  quarter  of  our  State.  The  various  trea 
ties  of  the  French,  British  and  Spanish,  with  the  In 
dians,  made  this  region  the  resort  of  the  first  emigrants. 
The  experiences  of  this  backwoods  life,  for  more  than 
twenty  years,  were  quite  as  singular  and  wonderful  as 
those  of  Boone  and  Kenton  in  Kentucky,  or  Sevier 
and  Kobertson  in  Tennessee.  They  had  their  quarrels 
and  conflicts  with  the  Spaniards  on  their  Southern  bor 
der,  and  more  than  one  filibuster  enterprise  was  pro 
jected  for  the  seizure  of  Mobile. 

But  time  as  it  passed  on  and  filled  these  solitudes  with 
settlers,  at  last  brought  the  most  sanguinary  era  in 
Alabama  history.  The  leading  incidents  of  the  war 
that  begun  at  Burnt  Corn  and  Fort  Mims,  and  end 
ed  at  the  Horse  Shoe — the  bloody  Illiad,  in  which  the 
form  of  Jackson  stands  conspicuously  forth,  a  greater 
than  Achilles — is  better  known  than  other  chapter  in  our 
annals.  The  subordinate  events  of  the  time,  form 
ing  the  no  less  interesting,  though  more  private  his 
tory  of  our  people,  have  generally  been  overlooked, 
living  only  in  perishing  traditions.  The  first  pioneers 
and  settlers  of  our  State  encountered  dangers,  priva 
tions  and  sufferings,  and  performed  heroic  actions  well 
worthy  of  being  registered  by  the  Muse  of  History. 
They  were  a  hardy,  gallant,  adventurous  race.  Take 


96  ORATIONS. 

one,  a  central  figure,  as  an  example.  I  see  before  me, 
in  imagination,  as  I  saw  him  more  than  twenty  years 
ago,  the  stalwart  form,  the  Herculean  proportions,  of 
Gen.  Samuel  Dale.  He  was  the  Daniel  Boone  of  Ala 
bama.  Inured  from  his  boyhood  to  Indian  conflicts 
on  the  frontiers  of  Georgia,  and  early  trained  to  all  the 
wiles  and  stratagems  of  savage  warfare ;  winning  the 
highest  character  for  dauntless  courage,  vigilance  and 
strength  ;  then  a  trader  among  the  Creeks  and  Chero- 
kees,  exchanging  manufactured  goods  for  cattle  and 
ponies  ;  then  a  guide  for  emigrants  along  the  blind  or 
blazed  paths  that  led  from  Georgia  to  the  Tombeck- 
bee  ;  and  eventually  a  settler,  with  his  wife  and  his  axe 
in  Clarke  county, — this  man,  when  the  war  with  the 
Indians  broke  out,  was  the  very  man  for  the  time. 
The  Red  Men  of  Alabama  knew  him  well,  and  dreaded 
his  prowess.  In  their  descriptive  language,  they 
called  him  Sam  TJilucco,  or  Big  Sam.  And  well  did 
he  justify,  by  his  performances,  the  fear  of  his  enemies. 
The  Canoe  Fight,  where  with  only  two  assistants,  he 
vanquished  nine  of  the  most  gallant  Creek  warriors,  is 
but  one  incident  in  the  chronicle  of  his  deeds.  On 
another  day,  solitary  and  alone,  he  had  slain  with  his 
own  hands,  five  warriors,  and  rescued  a  female  prisoner, 
who  speedily  evinced  her  gratitude  by  saving  him  from 
the  knife  of  a  sixth  foeman,  who  would  otherwise  have 
succeeded  in  taking  his  life. 

This  is  the  Representative  Man  of  the  era  of  our  War 
with  the  Creeks.  And  well  might  his  statue  tower 
in  marble  in  our  halls  of  State.  He  was  a  Richard 
Coeur  de  Leon, — a  Godfrey  of  Bouillon — moulded  and 


ALABAMA    HISTORY.  97 

fashioned  to  the  circumstances  of  his  forest  home. 
After  the  war  he  served  in  our  Legislature,  honored  a 
new  country  with  his  name,  and  then  went  to  Missis 
sippi,  to  die  in  the  fulness  of  years,  in  May,  1841,  hon 
ored  and  beloved. 

Cotemporary  with  the  advent  of  Dale  to  South  Ala 
bama,  was  the  arrival  of  another  pioneer,  of  somewhat 
kindred  though  milder  taste,  in  the  Valley  of  the  Ten 
nessee, — a  hunter  rather  than  a  warrior.  Stories  of  the 
fertility  of  that  region  were  circulated  early  after  the 
American  Kevolution.  Hunters  and  adventurers,  who 
had  explored  the  wilderness,  brought  back  glowing 
accounts  of  its  unexampled  loveliness ;  its  wide  sweeps 
of  luxuriant  soil,  clothed  with  the  noblest  of  all  forest 
trees  ;  its  bold  and  gushing  limestone  springs,  and 
swift  streams  abounding  in  fish  or  suited  to  ply  the 
water-wheel  ;  its  game  of  every  variety, — the  bear,  the 
deer,  the  beaver  ;  and  its  pure  and  genial  climate, 
locked  in  by  the  overtopping  mountains  of  the  south 
and  east,  which  furnished  picturesque  views  of  the  in 
viting  panorama.  This  was  the  favorite  border  hunt 
ing  ground  of  the  Cherokees  and  the  Chickasaws, 
which  their  rivalry  had  kept  sacred  from  the  posses 
sion  of  either.  An  ineffectual  attempt  had  been  made 
as  early  as  1784,  to  settle  it,  by  Colonels  Kobertson 
and  Sevier,  and  Georgia  had  actually  erected  it  into  a 
county,  denominated  Houston,  after  one  of  her  earlier 
Governors;  but  it  was  not  until  July,  1805,  that  its  title 
was  ceded  to  the  whites  by  the  Indians.  About  that  time 
an  adventurous  pioneer  from  Tennessee,  named  Hunt, 
penetrated  the  region,  and,  charmed  by  the  beauty  and 


93  ORATIONS. 

advantages  of  the  spot,  erected  his  cabin  on  a  bold  and 
elevated  bluff   overhanging    an    immense    limestone 
spring     which  poured  forth  a  large  stream  of  clear 
crystal  water,  and  around  which  the  wild  deer  were 
wont  to  collect  in  great  numbers,  while  he,  concealed 
in  the  tops  of  the  surrounding  trees,  could  easily,  with 
his  faithful  rifle,  pick  off  as  many  as  he  wished  of  his 
favorite  same.     Soon   other   adventurers  sought   the 
spot,  and'  a  village  sprang  into  existence,  forming  the 
nucleus  of  the  population  which  flowed  rapidly  from 
Tennessee,  North  Carolina  and  Kentucky,  into  the 
adjacent  fertile  lands.     Madison  county   was   estab 
lished  in  December,  1808,  and  the  next  year  the  vil 
lage  was  incorporated  under  the  name  of  Twickenham, 
after  the  villa  of  the  illustrious  author  of  the  "  Essay 
on  Man,"  some  of  whose  collateral  connections  were 
among  its  first  settlers.     But  the  democratic  inhabi 
tants  did  not  fancy  the  poetical  designation,  and  at 
the   next  session  of  the  Territorial  legislature,    the 
original  name  of  Huntsville,  in  honor  of  its  first  found 
er,   was   restored    to    the   picturesque    and    thriving 
village.     It  is  no  idle  or  uninteresting  reverie  to  stand 
upon  the  summit  of  Montesana,  and,  while  gazing  down 
upon  the  broad  and  cultured  panorama  of  the  Ten 
nessee  Valley,  with  its  now  flourishing  capital,  lying 
in  a  white  and  green  mosaic  of  loveliness  at  your  feet, 
thus  to  recall  the  incidents  of  the  first  settlement  of 
North  Alabama. 

But  scarcely  had  the  adventurous  pioneers  opened: 
the  woods  and  erected  their  cabins  in  the  pine  forests* 
of  what  is  now  Clarke,  Washington  and  Monroe 


ALABAMA   HISTORY.  99 

counties,  and  in  the  distant  and  secluded  recesses  of 
Madison,  when  the  period  arrived,  of  the  most  terrific 
and  destructive  Indian  wars  that  have  ever  occurred  in 
the  United  States,  baptising  our  soil  with  blood.  It 
was  my  intention,  while  anticipating  this  address,  to 
have  dwelt  upon  the  history  and  characteristics  of  our 
Aborigines,  as  most  forcibly  illustrating  my  theme. 
But  non  nobis  nunc  hoc  perficere.  Time,  and  the 
evident  though  unavoidable  tediousness  of  a  narrative 
discourse,  admonish  me  to  forbear.  I  may  however 
remark,  that  the  Ked  Men  of  Alabama,  if  properly  re 
viewed,  would  be  found  to  present  more  interesting 
j  facts  and  features,  upon  a  more  extended  scale,  than 
I  any  other  American  tribes.  The  peculiarities  which 
had  ever  invested  the  character  of  the  Indian  with  so 
much  romantic  interest,  making  him  the  chosen  child 
jof  fable  and  of  song,  were  here  exhibited  in  bolder  re-^ 
ief  than  elsewhere.  In  numbers  ;  in  the  extent  of 
heir  territories,  all  converging  to  the  heart  of  our 
State  ;  in  their  wide  and  terrific  wars  ;  in  intercourse 
and  traffic  with  the  whites  ;  in  the  mystery  of  their 
rigin  and  migration  ;  in  the  arts,  rude  though  they, 
were,  which  gradually  refine  and  socialize  man  ;  in  their 
political  and  religious  forms,  arrangements,  and  cer 
emonies  ;  in  manifestations  of  intellectual  power — 
agacity  and  eloquence  ;  and  in  all  those  strange  moral 
phenomena,  which  marked  "  the  stoic  of  the  woods, 
he  man  without  a  tear/' — the  native  inhabitants  of 
>ur  soil  surpassed  all  the  other  primitive  nations,  north 
j)f  Mexico.  The  study  of  their  history  is  peculiarly 
!>ur  province, — for  they  are  indissolubly  connected  not 


100  ORATIONS. 

only  with  the  past,  but  the  present  and  future  of  the 
State. 

Yes  !  "  though  they  all  have  passed  away,— 

That  noble  race  and  brave, 
Though  their  light  canoes  have  vanished 

From  off  the  crested  wave  ; 
Though,  'mid  the  forests  where  they  roved, 

There  rings  no  hunter's-shout, — 
Yet  their  names  are  on  our  waters, 

And  we  may  not  wash  them  out ! 
Their  memory  liveth  on  our  hills, 

Their  baptism  on  our  shore, — 
Our  everlasting  rivers  speak 
Their  dialect  of  yore  !" 
'Tis  heard  where  CHATTAHOOCHEE  pours 

His  yellow  tide  along ; 
It  sounds  on  TALLAPOOSA'S  shores, 

And  COOSA  swells  the  song ; 
Where  lordly  ALABAMA  sweeps, 

The  symphony  remains ; 
And  young  CAHAWBA  proudly  keeps, 

The  echo  of  its  strains  ; 
Where  TUSCALOOSA'S  waters  glide, 

From  stream  and  town  'tis  heard, 
And  dark  TOMBECKBEE'S  winding  tide 

Repeats  the  olden  word ; 
Afar  where  nature  brightly  wreathed 

Fit  Edens  for  the  Free, 
Along  TUSCUMBIA'S  bank  'tis  breathed 

By  stately  TENNESSEE  ; 
And  south,  where,  from  CONECUH'S  springs, 

ESCAMBIA'S  waters  steal, 
The  ancient  melody  still  rings, — 
From  TENSAW  and  MOBILE  ! 

The  Thirty  Battles,  fought  by  Weatherford  and  his 
dusky  followers,  with  Claiborne,  Flournoy,  and  Jack 
son  and  terminated  by  the  treaty  on  the  site  of  Fort 


ALABAMA   HISTORY.  101 

Toulouse,  in  August,  1814,  lost  to  the  Creeks  all  their 
dominions  west  of  the  Coosa.  The  astonishing  celerity 
with  which  the  conquerors  prosecuted  the  war  is  one 
of  its  most  notable  characteristics.  The  battle  of  Tal- 
lashatchee  was  faught  the  third  of  November  ;  Talla- 
dega,  the  tenth  ;  Hillabee,  the  eighteenth ;  Autossee, 
the  twenty-ninth  ;  Emuckfaw,  the  twenty-second  of 
January,  1814;  Echanachaca,  or  the  Holy  Ground, 
the  twenty-third  ;  Enotichopco,  the  twenty-fourth ; 
and  To-hope-ka,  or  the  Horse  Shoe,  the  twenty- 
seventh  of  March.  These,  with  numerous  smaller  en 
gagements,  almost  exterminated  the  nation.  Not  less 
than  four  thousand  warriors  are  believed  to -have  fallen 
victims  to  their  wild  fanaticism  and  martyr-like 
courage. 

Alabama  emerged,  like  Miriam,  from  the  Bed  Sea 
of  her  struggles,  and  now  a  new  era  of  growth  and 
prosperity  began.  The  streams  of  population  flowed 
rapidly  into  all  parts  of  the  interior  of  our  State.  I 
can  follow  only  one, — for  its  present  interest. 

The  spot  upon  which  we  are  assembled,  with  an  in 
definite  strip  of  territory  on  both  banks  of  the  Black 
Warrior  (originally  called  the  Choctaw,)  to  its  junction 
with  the  Tombeckbee,had  been,  from  time  immemorial, 
a  neutral  ground  between  the  Creeks  and  Choctaws. 
Both  tribes  abstained  from  its  occupancy.  About  the 
year  1809,  however,  a  Creek  Chief  named  Oseeche- 
emathla,  obtained  permission  from  the  Choctaws  to 
establish  a  settlement  near  the  falls  of  the  Black  War 
rior,  for  the  purpose  of  facilitating  trade  with  the 
American  Factory  at  St.  Stephens,  then  under  the 


102  OKATIONS. 

charge  of  Col.  G-eorge  S.  Gaines.  This  settlement, 
which  speedily  grew  into  a  village,  was  just  below 
what  is  now  known  as  New  Town.  Its  Chieftain  was 
in  the  habit  of  purchasing  on  credit,  annually  from  the 
Factory,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars'  worth  of 
goods,  which  he  retailed  to  the  Indians.  In  the  spring 
of  1812,  he  went  to  St.  Stephens,  and  boasting  of  a 
great  increase  in  his  business,  was  extremely  solicitous 
to  obtain  credit  to  the  amount  of  $1,000.  The  suspi 
cions  of  the  Factor  were  aroused,  and  he  refused  to 
enlarge  the  bill  beyond  its  ordinary  size.  That  night, 
Tandy  Walker,  an  old  and  astute  Indian  trader, 
gleaned  from  some  of  the  incautious  and  maudlin  com 
panions  of  the  merchant-chief,  that  the  Creeks  were 
preparing  for  war.  The  Indians  departed  with  their 
goods,  which  were  never  paid  for,  as  hostilities  were 
commenced  in  a  few  weeks  by  the  Battle  of  Burnt 
Corn,  and  the  Massacre  at  Fort  Mims.  The  Indian 
village  of  Tuscaloosa,  so  called  from  an  immemorial 
family  name  among  the  Choctaws,  soon  witnessed 
some  of  the  effects  of  the  war.  A  party  of  hostile 
warriors  had  made  an  incursion  into  Tennessee,  and 
after  many  murders,  made  prisoner  Mrs.  Crawley,  an 
interesting  and  intelligent  woman,  whom  they  brought 
to  Tuscaloosa  and  detained  in  captivity.  News  of  her 
situation  reaching  Col.  Gaines,  he  induced  the  fearless 
and  adventurous  Tandy  Walker,  to  undertake  her  lib 
eration.  This  he  accomplished  with  a  skill  worthy  of 
any  of  Cooper's  heroes  ;  and  the  fair  prisoner  was  safely 
conducted  to  St.  Stephens,  whence  she  was  sent  by 
that  noble  pioneer  of  our  State,  whose  name  is  worthy 


ALABAMA    HISTORY.  103 

of  all  praise  for  his  services  at  this  period, — Col. 
Gaines, — to  her  friends  in  Tennessee.  The  insolent 
savages  at  Tuscaloosa,  not  long  after,  met  a  deserved 
retribution.  The  friendly  Choctaws  under  Pushma- 
taha,  with  a  band  of  Chickasaws  led  by  Col.  John 
McKee,  subsequently  for  many  years  Kepresentative 
in  Congress  from  this  District — in  October,  1813,  at 
tacked  the  village  and  reduced  it  to  ashes, — most  of 
the  inhabitants  having  fled.  The  spot  remained 
abandoned  until  after  the  war,  when  in  1816,  the  first 
settlers,  Emanuel  York  and  John  Barton,  from  Ten 
nessee,  pitched  their  tents  and  raised  their  crops  of 
corn  on  the  beautiful  upland  plain  where  now  stands 
the  city  of  Tuscaloosa.  The  harvests  of  the  next  year 
were  reaped  by  a  considerable  population  ;  the  outlines 
of  the  future  town  were  laid  out  ;  and  in  January, 
1818,  the  Alabama  Territorial  Legislature,  then  in  its 
first  session  at  St.  Stephens,  established  the  county  of 
Tuscaloosa.  The  ensuing  spring,  Thomas  M.  Daven 
port,  an  enterprising  printer,  commenced  the  publica 
tion  of  the  "  Tuscaloosa  Republican/'  a  weekly  news 
paper,  which  in  twelve  months,  took  the  name  of  the 
"  American  Mirror,"  which  was  continued  to  a  period 
within  the  memory  of  many  of  my  audience. 

The  flight  of  the  honey-bee  is  said  to  mark  the  pro 
gress  of  the  Anglo-American  race ;  but  the  presence 
of  the  printing  press  is  a  surer  index  of  its  growth  in 
intelligence  and  refinement  ;  and,  in  this  connection,  I 
may  state  that  the  first  newspaper  ever  published  in 
Alabama,  was  the  "Madison  Gazette,"  at  Huntsville, 
in  1812,  "  The  Halcyon"  was  established  at  St.  Ste- 


104  ORATIONS. 

phens?  1814,  by  Thomas  Eastin,  who  became  the  first 
Territorial  printer,  executing  the  Laws  and  Journals 
of  the  first  Legislative  Assembly.  A  man  named 
Cotton  commenced  the  earliest  newspaper  at  Mobile, 
in  November,  1816.  It  was  called  the  "  Mobile  Ga 
zette  and  General  Advertiser/'  In  1820,  "  The  Clar 
ion"  was  published  at  Claiborne ;  "  The  Free  Press/' 
and  the  "  Alabama  Watchman"  at  Cahawba  ;  and 
the  "  Kepublican,"  at  Montgomery,  by  J.  Battelle. 
These  were  the  exponents  and  avant  couriers  of  the 
rapidly  increasing  intelligence  of  their  respective  com 
munities.  It  may  also  be  added,  that  "  Green  Acad 
emy,"  at  Huntsville,  still  in  existence,  was  the  first 
organized  institution  of  learning  in  Alabama,  having 
been  incorporated  by  the  Mississippi  Territorial  Legis 
lature,  in  November,  1812.  "  Washington  Academy," 
in  Washington  county,  had  been  chartered  a  year  pre 
viously,  but  did  not  go  into  operation  until  some  time 
after.  From  these  simple  primitive  sources — these 
small  Castalian  fountains, — originated  the  streams  of 
knowledge,  which  now,  with  more  than  the  fertilizing 
influence  of  the  Nile,  and  with  richer  deposits  than  the 
golden  sands  of  the  Pactolus,  irrigate  our  soil,  and 
flow  with  a  converging  wealth  and  beauty,  into  that 
noblest  of  Southern  educational  institutions,  the  Uni 
versity  of  Alabama,  thence  to  diffuse  throughout  the 
State,  as  has  already  been  done,  despite  the  cavils  of 
the  insolent  and  the  ignorant,  in  the  persons  of  her 
Alumni,  the  noblest  of  influences  for  the  promotion  of 
the  intellectual,  moral  and  social  welfare  of  our  people. 
Standing  here,  with  the  bridge  of  time  behind  me, 


ALABAMA  HISTORY.  105 

which  I  have  crossed  for  this  presence, — after  an  ab 
sence  of  more  than  twenty  years, — with  its  memories 
and  its  merits  crowding  upon  my  mind,  and  the  ex 
emplars  of  its  excellence  all  about  me,  and  chief  of 
them,  its  distinguished  President,  (the  Rev.  Dr.  Manly,) 
who  is  about  retiring,  amid  the  regrets  of  the  whole 
State,  from  the  station  he  has  so  honored  and  adorned, 
I  can  but  exclaim, 

"  Salve  magnaparens,  Saturnia  tellus, 
Magna  virum  /" 

This  local  termination  brings  me  to  the  conclusion 
of  my  address.  Have  I  not,  Gentlemen,  sufficiently 
vindicated  the  claims  of  our  history  to  the  study  and 
research  of  our  scholars  ?-  Have  I  not  shown  that, 
though  obscured  through  hither  neglect,  by  the  fast 
gathering  twilight  of  time,  and  buried  amid  crumb 
ling  ruins  and  accumulated  dust,  it  has  treasures,  the 
richest,  to  repay  for  exploration  and  development  ? 
There  is  a  chamber  in  the  Mammoth  Cave  of  Ken 
tucky,  whose  stalactites  are  said  to  be  luminous.  It 
is  thus  with  the  almost  subterranean  halls  in  which 
the  memorials  of  our  past  lie  concealed.  We  push  our 
way  through  the  dimness,  and  across  the  barriers,  to 
our  French,  Spanish,  British,  Aboriginal,  and  Anglo- 
American  eras,  and  by  patient  effort  and  studious  toil 
advance  until  their  long  hidden  beauties  hang  brilliantly 
before  us.  The  lovers  of  literature,  in  all  its  depart 
ments,  find  there  the  precious  metals,  which  might  be 
moulded  into  all  the  most  graceful  and  elegant  forms 
of  thought.  The  stimulants  to  an  intelligent  and  ap- 


106  ORATIOXS. 

preciative  love  of  country  are  there.  Shall  these 
treasures  continue  to  lie  unused  and  unregarded  ? 
This  Society  becomingly  answers  the  question.  It  has 
undertaken  to  supply  for  our  State  what  Sallust  lamen 
ted  as  wanting  at  Bonier  Its  members  are  performing 
an  important  public  service,  and  will  receive  the  thanks 
of  posterity.  To  their  own  minds  also,  their  exertions 
will  be  productive  of  benefit  ;  for,  as  the  great  English 
moralist  has  happily  said,  "  whatever  withdraws  us 
from  the  power  of  our  senses  ;  whatever  makes  the 
past,  the  distant,  or  the  future  predominate  over  the 
present, — advances  us  in  the  dignity  of  thinking  be 
ings."  'Go  on,  then,  Gentlemen,  energetically  in  your 
noble  undertaking,  consoled  by  the  assurance  that  you 
are  collecting  the  materials,  that  shall  illustrate  and 
embellish  the  annals  of  your  State,  in  the  far  distant, 
when  they  shall  receive  the  plastic  touch  and  vivifying 
breath  of  some  future  Xenophon  or  Polybius,  some 
Tacitus  or  Livy,  who,  like  the  Hebrew  prophet,  shall 
bid  the  dry  bones — live  ! 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE : 

AN"    ORATION 

BEFOKE   THE 

bi  fappa  ano  gemostljeixiau  Sotittiw  of  %  Snifcersiijj  of  <gtorgia, 

AT 
ATHENS,  AUGUST  8,  1844. 


ORATION. 


GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  LITERARY  SOCIETIES  : 

The  return  to  scenes,  with  which  we  have  been 
familiar  in  early  life,  constitutes  much  of  the  pathos 
and  poetry  of  manhood.  The  changes  time  has  made 
in  each  once  familiar  object,  the  developement  into  new 
life  and  beauty  of  some,  the  decay,  the  significant  ab 
sence,  of  others,  impress  us  with  mingled  emotions  of 
pride  and  tenderness.  We  look  with  a  calm  gratifica 
tion  upon  the  improvements  that  have  been  made  ; 
we  mourn,  with  a  patient  sorrow,  for  those  things, 
which,  too  obviously,  have  passed  away  from  the  earth 
forever.  Such  are  my  emotions  to-day.  You  have 
called  me  back,  from  a  distant  home,  over  a  wide  in 
terval  of  years,  to  the  scene  of  my  earliest  collegi 
ate  life.  I  have  come,  gratefully,  at  your  bidding,  and 
find  well-nigh  all  things  changed  about  me.  The 
unadorned  edifice,  in  which  prayer  was  wont  to  be  said, 
and  where  the  feeble  voice  first  attempted  to  pitch  its 
tones  to  the  music  of  eloquence,  has  passed  from  the 
view,  and  this  beautiful  temple,  with  its  architectural 


110  ORATIONS. 

elegance,  now  occupies  the  site.  The  fair  village,  that 
then  lay  in  almost  pastoral  quiet  amid  its  embowering 
trees,  has  become  a  populous  town,  the  home  of  culti 
vated  wealth,  and  the  mart  of  an  active  and  far-reach 
ing  commerce.  But  the  greatest  changes  have  occurred 
with  those  who  then  gave  life  and  social  pleasure 
to  the  scene.  Where  are  the  young  forms  that  bound 
ed  in  the  elasticity  and  luxuriance  of  untamed  feeling, 
upon  yonder  grassy  slope  when  last  I  looked  upon  it  ? 
All  gone  and  changed  ;  scattered  through  all  parts  of 
this  busy,  diversified  land  of  ours.  Some  of  them  are 
holding  high  trusts  in  Legislatures  and  Congresses, 
winning  proud  reputations  for  statesmanship  and  elo 
quence  ;  others  fill  noble  places  in  the  pulpit,  and 
professor's  chair  ;  and  I  have  met  not  a  few  amid  the 
pine  forests  and  wide  prairies  of  Alabama,  engaged  in 
the  hot-handed  struggle,  at  the  hustings  or  the  bar 
becue,  for  this  or  that  presidential  aspirant.  But  alas  ! 
when  I  again  have  asked  for  others,  I  have  been  ans 
wered,  in  melancholy  tones,  that  their  names  have 
been  carved,  for  many  a  season,  upon  the  marble  of  the 
grave-yard  ! 

One  other  remembrance  comes  before  me  at  this 
hour.  I  see  the  form  of  the  venerable  individual  who 
presided  over  this  institution,  at  the  period  of  my  first 
entrance  into  its  halls.  Through  a  long  life,  he  has 
devoted  himself,  with  the  love  of  a  Christian,  and  the 
capacities  of  a  scholar,  to  the  intellectual  and  moral 
elevations  of  the  young  men  of  the  South.  His  ex 
ertions  have  been  most  nobly  rewarded.  Hundreds, 
under  his  guidance,  have  passed  up  the  paths  of  use- 


AMERICANISM    IN    LITERATURE.  Ill 

fulness,  and  reflected  light  upon  the  institutions  of  the 
country.  He  has  been  the  foster-parent  and  vivifying 
spirit  of  this  University.  Now, — at  the  period  to 
which  I  revert, — in  the  fullness  of  his  fame,  and 
while  the  sun  of  his  life  is  sinking  amidst  the  mellowed 
clouds  of  three  score  years  and  ten,  he  is  about  to 
sever  his  connection  with  this  institution.  I  remem 
ber  the  morning  when  we  marched  in  procession  to  his 
residence,  to  take  our  leave  of  him.  I  see  him  stand 
ing  bare-headed  beneath  the  grove,  affectionately 
grasping  the  hand  of  each  student  as  we  passed,  and 
fervently  ejaculating,  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  emotion, 
while  the  tears  streamed  from  his  eyes,  "  God  bless 
you,  my  sons  \"  A  few  years, — and  the  venerable 
patriarch  was  borne  from  the  scene  of  his  earthly  use 
fulness  to  the  beatitudes  of  the  Just ;  but,  while  the 
walls  of  this  institution  remain,  they  will  stand  a  fit 
ting  monument  to  the  memory  of  MOSES  WADDELL. 

At  the  same  period,  to  which  my  memory  now  goes 
back,  another  distinguished  individual  shed  the  light 
of  his  intellect  and  the  influence  of  his  example,  upon 
this  community.  Though  his  life  was  not  spent  in  the 
quiet  bowers  of  literature,  but  in  the  turbulent  field  of 
politics,  yet  he  united  much  of  the  gracefulness  of  the 
scholar  with  the  solidity  of  the  statesman,  and  was  ever 
active  in  the  promotion  of  those  enterprises,  which  have 
for  their  object  the  diffusion  of  intelligence  and  virtue 
among  the  people.  Neither  the  blandishments  of  office, 
nor  the  voluptuousness  of  foreign  courts  could  corrupt 
his  republican  simplicity,  and  he  was,  in  all  the  leading 
features  of  his  character,  the  model  of  an  American 


112  ORATIONS. 

statesman.  This  Georgia  of  yours  owes  him  a  debt  of 
gratitude  for  his  services  in  the  federal  councils,  and 
not  till  talents  and  integrity,  patriotism  and  stateman- 
ship  are  unappreciated  in  the  land  of  Oglethorpe,  will 
she  neglect  the  fame  of  her  CRAWFORD. 

Not  inappropriate  to  the  subject,  upon  which  I  pro 
pose  to  address  you  to-day,  are  these  reminiscences  of 
two  of  the  most  eminent  men  in  the  history  of  this 
State.  They  both  struggled  for  the  same  end, — the 
elevation  of  the  best  interests  of  our  country.  The  one 
sought  to  accomplish  this  by  giving  a  proper  impulse 
and  direction  to  our  political  institutions  ;  the  other 
placed  his  chief  hope  of  regeneration,  in  the  establish 
ment  and  diffusion  of  an  elevated  intellectual  system. 
The  one  was  a  statesman — the  other  a  scholar.  Herein 
then  we  recognize,  to  some  extent,  our  subject,  which 
is  to  include  a  discussion  of  the  influence,  upon  mental 
developernent,  of  the  physical,  social  and  political 
characteristics  of  our  country,  and  which  I  therefore  call 
AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  An  enquiry  into  the 
modifications,  which  our  forms  of  government,  as  well 
as  our  other  peculiarities,  are  destined  to  work  in  that 
chiefest  of  a  nation's  interests,  its  inellectual  efflores 
cence,  can  never  be  devoid  of  interest  on  an  occasion 
like  this,  if  at  all  philosophically  conducted.  There  are 
lessons  kerneled  in  such  an  enquiry,  for  the  instruction 
of  the  statesman  as  well  as  the  scholar. 

But,  at  the  outset,  let  us  look  a  little  into  the  legiti 
mate  purposes  of  both  governments,  and  literatures. 
Mankind  too  frequently  mistake  these  for  ends,  when 
they  are  only  means  for  the  achievement  of  an  end. 


AMERICANISM    IN    LITERATURE.  113 

They  a,re  but  instruments  whereby  to  accomplish  the 
great  design  for  which  man  was  created.  And  what 
is  that  ?  Is  it  to  hold  Congresses,  crown  kings,  write 
poems,  fight  battles,  invent  steam  engines,  or  build 
magnetic  telegraphs  ?  Oh  no  !  These  are  but  epi 
sodes  in  the  great  epic  of  immortality.  There  is  a 
higher  design,  an  ulterior  purpose.  What  then  is  that  ? 
I  repeat.  For  what  did  God  make  man,  and  place 
him  on  this  revolving  globe  ?  Is  there  any  key  to  this 
mystery  of  life  and  motion  ?  Why  do  the.  constant 
generations  come  and  go  athwart  this  earth  like  the 
waves  of  the  sea  upon  a  coast  of  breakers  ?  Why  this 
ceaseless  production  and  reproduction  ?  For  what  was 
this  great  complex  machinery  of  worlds,  and  centuries, 
and  seasons,  and  souls, — thought,  sunshine  and  vegeta 
tion, — life,  death,  resurrection, — fashioned  into  shape 
and  motion,  and  hung  out  in  the  heaven  of  time  ? 
What  good  does  it  do  ?  What  end  can  it  accomplish  ? 
Ah  !  these  are  the  old  enigmas,  which  no  (Edipus  has 
solved.  Eeason,  revelation,  only  let  us  know  that  man 
is  an  immortal,  ethical  being,  and  that  the  great  law 
of  his  nature  is  incessant  progress, — progress  to  the 
infinite,  the  eternal,  the  omniscient,  the  perfect.  Ever 
onward,  never  attaining  !  All  things,  when  aright, 
move  upward,  unceasingly,  (by  a  great  spiral  revolu 
tion,)  to  the  unattainable  throne  of  God  ! 

This  moral  law  obtains  in  this  world  as  well  as  in 
the  next.  Bards  and  prophets  from  the  old  centuries, 
have  foretold  and  prayed  for  a  state  of  intellectual  and 
moral  perfection ;  not  the  wild  dream  of  a  Condorcet, 
but  a  social  millenium,  when  between  the  smiling 


114  ORATIONS. 

hemispheres  of  beauty  and  refinement,  the  world 
should  roll  round  in  the  warm  flush,  the  purpureum 
lumen,  of  Divine  intelligence  and  love.  For  this  we 
implore  when  we  say,  "  Thy  kingdom  come!"  Not 
only  do  we  invoke  a  moral  dynasty,  but  also,  an 
intellectual.  The  two  must  go  together.  God  is  all 
intellect,  as  well  as  all  love  !  Literature,  in  its  purity, 
no  less  than  religion,  is  a  scion  of  his  beneficence,  and 
one  of  his  provisions  for  the  redemption  of  man.  All 
human  institutions,  whether  intellectual  or  political, 
should  contribute  to  this  great  law  of  progress.  Un 
less  they  are  founded  upon  and  vivified  by  its  spirit, 
they  have  no  right  to  be.  They  are  tyrannies  and 
falsehoods,  and  should  be  extinguished.  In  every 
enquiry  then,  as  to  the  value  or  validity  of  a  govern 
ment  or  literature,  we  should  measure  them  by  this 
standard,  judge  of  them  by  this  rule. 

Bad  governments  and  bad  literatures  tend  ever  to 
the  demoralization  of  the  human  family.  They  not 
only  retard,  but  roll  back  the  wheels  of  progress.  The 
old  tyrannies,  and  their  intellectual  systems,  were 
manifestations  and  promoters,  not  of  civilization,  but 
of  barbarism.  Radically  wrong  in  their  whole  philoso 
phies  of  man  and  life,  they  led  upward  to  no  glorious 
zenith,  but  lay,  like  stagnant  oceans,  weltering  in  rot 
tenness  and  error,  breathing  pestilence,  woe,  and  degra 
dation.  This,  in  main  part,  is  why  man,  in  the  sixty 
centuries,  has  risen  so  little  above  his  primeval 
condition. 

But  in  modern  times,  a  better  philosophy  of  both 
Government  and  literature  has  begun  to  prevail. 


AMERICANISM   IN   LITERATURE.  115 

Mankind  have  learned  that  governments  are  somewhat 
more  than  games  or  machines  kept  in  curious  motion 
for  the  amusement  and  edification  of  rulers ;  and  lite 
ratures  are  beginning  to  be  regarded,  not  as  the  phan 
tasmagoria  of  poets  and  dreamers,  the  sunset  scaffold 
ings  of  fancy,  but  as  something  very  far  beyond  that. 
The  old  secret  has  come  out,  that  man's  immortality 
has  already  begun,  and,  by  these  things,  you  are  mould 
ing  and  fashioning  him  in  his  destinies  forever. 

Surely  now,  no  enquiry  can  be  more  appropriate  or 
profitable  than  whether  this  American  Government, 
this  American  Literature  of  ours,  in  what  they  are 
now,  and  are  destined  to  be,  correspond  with  the  prin 
ciples  and  designs  of  Providence,  in  the  creation  of 
man :  that  is,  are  they  in  faith  with  the  great  law  of 
intellectual  and  social  progression  ?  The  question  is 
double,  but  it  may  still  be  answered  affirmatively.  In 
my  judgment,  there  has  never  been  a  social  organism  in 
which  the  two  greatest  motive  powers  of  elevation, 
government  and  literature — for  under  literature  I  now 
include  religion — were  more  happily  accommodated,  or 
gave  "  fairer  promise  of  a  goodly  morrow/'  from  their 
reciprocal  operations,  than  in  this  young  twenty-six 
headed  giant  of  the  West.  Let  Sydney  Smith  sneer 
as  he  may,  but  verily  this  Americanism  of  ours,  with 
all  its  physical,  historical  and  political  aspects,  is  des 
tined  to  be,  as  it  already  has  been,  a  powerful  influence 
on  man,  and  will  necessarily  modify  and  fashion  the 
literature  of  the  world.  Literature,  in  its  essence,  is  a 
spiritual  immortality ;  no  more  than  religion  a  creation 
of  man ;  but,  like  the  human  soul,  while  enduring  the 


116  OEATIONS. 

mystery  of  its  incarnation,  is  subject  to  the  action  of 
the  elements,  is  the  slave  of  circumstance.  In  the 
sense  in  which  I  would  now  view  it,  it  is  the  expression 
of  the  spiritual  part  of  our  nature,  in  its  intellectual 
action,  whether  taking  form  in  philosophy,  history, 
poetry,  eloquence,  or  some  other  "braach  of  thought. 
The  sum  of  all  this,  in  any  nation,  is  what  constitutes 
her  literature,  and  it  is  always  modified  and  colored  by 
the  peculiarities  about  it.  As  the  river,  sliding  under 
the  sunset,  imbibes,  for  the  time,  the  hues  of  the 
heavens,  so  the  stream  of  literature  receives,  from  the 
people  through  which  it  passes,  not  only  the  images  and 
shadows  of  their  condition,  but  the  very  force  and  direc 
tion  of  its  current.  Every  literature,  Greek  or  Eoman, 
Arabic  or  English,  French,  Persian  or  German, 
acquired  its  qualities  and  impression  from  the  circum 
stances  of  the  time  and  people.  The  philosophic  eye 
can  readily  detect  the  key,  cause  and  secret  of  each; 
and  expose  the  seminal  principle  from  which  they  grew 
into  their  particular  shape  and  fashion.  The  same 
scrutinizing  analysis  will  enable  us  to  determine  the 
influences  among  ourselves,  which  are  to  operate  in  the 
formation  of  our  literature;  as  well  as  to  decide 
whether  it  will  comport  with  those  high  spiritual  requi 
sitions  which,  I  have  already  avowed,  should  be 
demanded  from  it.  Let  us  then  attempt  to  see  how 
Americanism  will  develope  itself  in  Literature.  We 
shall  discuss  some  of  its  preliminary  conditions  first. 
1.  The  physical  attributes  of  our  country  are  all 
partial  to  the  loftiest  manifestations  of  mind.  Nature 
here  presents  her  loveliest,  sublimes t  aspects.  For 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  117 

vasthess  of  extent,  grandeur  of  scenery,  genial  diversi 
ties  of  climate,  and  all  that  can  minister  to  the  comforts 
and  tastes  of  man,  this  heritage  of  ours  is  without 
a  parallel.  In  its  mountains  of  stone  and  iron,  its 
gigantic  and  far-reaching  rivers,  its  inland  seas,  its 
forests  of  all  woods,  its  picturesque  and  undulating 
prairies,  in  all  its  properties  and  proportions,  it 
might  well  be  considered,  in  comparison  with  the  East 
ern  Hemisphere,  the  work  of  a  more  perfect  and  benefi 
cent  artist.  To  the  eyes  of  the  Genoese  mariner, 
the  wildest  dreams  of  Diodorus  and  Plato  were  more 
than  realized.  Seneca  sang  : 


•Venient  annis 


Sascula  sens,  quibus  oceanus 
Vincula  rerum  laxet,  et  ingens 
Pateat  tellus,  Typhisque  novos 
Detegat  orbes:" 

Yet  not  even  in  the  mirror  of  his  prophetic  fancy  were 
these  more  than  Elysian  fields  glassed  with  all  their 
beauty  and  sublimity.  Even  the  bilious  British  satirist, 
who  could  see  no  good  in  all  our  institutions,  was  com* 
pelled  to  confess  that  here 


" Nature  showed 

The  last  ascending  footsteps  of  the  God  !" 

Well-nigh  all  this  vast  expanse  of  fruitfulness  and 
beauty,  too,  has  been  subjected  to  the  control  of  civil 
ized  man.  Our  country  has  extended  her  jurisdiction 
over  the  fairest  and  most  fertile  regions.  The  rich 
bounty  is  poured  into  her  lap,  and  breathes  its  influence 
upon  her  population.  Their  capacities  are  not  pent 


118  ORATIONS. 

and  thwarted  by  the  narrow  limits  which  restrict  the 
citizens  of  other  countries.  No  speculating  theorist,  a 
Mai  thus,  Stultz,  or  Liceto,  has  cause,  here,  to  appre 
hend  the  dangers  of  over-population.  Koom,  bountiful 
room,  is  all  about  us,  for  humanity  to  breathe  freely 
in,  and  to  go  on  expanding  in  a  long  future. — Do  these 
things  afford  no  promise  of  intellectual  improvement  ? 
Are  they  no  incitements  to  a  lofty  and  expanded  litera 
ture  ?  Do  they  furnish  no  materiel  for  active,  generous, 
elevated  thought  ?  Is  there  no  voice  coming  out  from 
all  this  fragrance  and  beauty  and  sublimity,  appealing 
to  the  heart  and  fancy  of  man,  for  sympathy,  utterance, 
embodiment  ?  Why,  it  was  once  said,  that  the  sky  of 
Attica  would  make  a  Boeotian  a  poet ;  and  we  have 
seen  even  "  the  red  old  hills  of  Georgia"  draw  inspiring 
melody  .from  the  heart  of  patriotic  genius. — Physical 
causes  have  always  operated  in  the  formation  and 
fashioning  of  literature.  In  all  the  higher  productions 
of  mind,  ancient  and  modern,  we  can  easily  recognize 
the  influence  of  the  climate  and  natural  objects  among 
which  they  were  developed.  The  sunsets  of  Italy 
colored  the  songs  of  Tasso  and  Petrarch  ;  the  vine- 
embowered  fields  of  beautiful  France  are  visible  in  all 
the  pictures  of  Kousseau  and  La  Martine  ;  you  may 
hear  the  solemn  rustling  of  the  Hartz  forest,  and  the 
shrill  horn  of  the  wild  huntsman,  throughout  the  crea 
tions  of  Schiller  and  Goethe  ;  the  sweet  streamlets  and 
sunny  lakes  of  England  smile  upon  you  from  the 
graceful  verses  of  Spenser  and  Wordsworth  ;  and  the 
mist-robed  hills  of  Scotland  loom  out  in  magnificence 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  119 

through  the  pages  of  Ossian,  and  the  loftier  visions  of 
Marmion  and  Waverly. 

Our  country,  then,  must  receive  much  of  the  cha 
racter  of  her  literature  from  her  physical  properties. 
If  our  minds  are  only  original ;  if  they  be  not  base 
copyists,  and  servile  echoes  of  foreign  masters  ;  if  we 
assert  an  intellectual  as  well  as  political  independence  ; 
if  we  dare  to  think  for  ourselves,  and  faithfully  picture 
forth,  in  our  own  styles  of  utterance,  the  impressions 
our  minds  shall  receive  from  this  great,  fresh  continent 
of  beauty  and  sublimity  ; — we  can  render  to  the  world 
the  most  vigorous  and  picturesque  literature  it  has  ever 
beheld.  Never  had  imagination  nobler  stimulants  ; 
never  did  nature  look  more  encouragingly  upon  her 
genuine  children.  In  poetry,  romance,  history  and  elo 
quence,  what  glorious  objects, — sights  and  sounds,  for 
illustration  and  ornament ! — I  have  stood,  down  in  Flor 
ida,  beneath  the  over-arching  groves  of  magnolia,  orange 
and  myrtle,  blending  their  fair  flowers  and  voluptu 
ous  fragrance,  and  opening  long  vistas  between  their 
slender  shafts,  to  where  the  green  waters  of  the  Mexican 
Gulf  lapsed  upon  the  silver-sanded  beach,  flinging  up 
their  light  spray  into  the  crimson  beams  of  the  declining 
sun ;  and  I  have  thought  that,  for  poetic  beauty,  for 
delicate  inspiration,  the  scene  was  as  sweet  as  ever 
wooed  the  eyes  of  a  Grecian  minstrel  on  the  slopes  of 
Parnassus,  or  around  the  fountains  of  Castaly. 

Again  :  I  have  stood  upon  a  lofty  summit  of  the 
Alleghanies,  among  the  splintered  crags  and  vast 
gorges,  where  the  eagle  and  the  thunder  make  their 
home  ;  and  looked  down  upon  an  empire  spread  out 


120  ORATIONS. 

in  the  long  distance  below.  Far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  the  broad  forests  swept  away  over  territories 
of  unexampled  productiveness  and  beauty.  At  in 
tervals  through  the  wide  champaign,  the  domes  and 
steeples  of  some  fair  town,  which  had  sprung  up 
with  magical  suddenness  among  the  trees,  would 
come  out  to  the  eye,  giving  evidence  of  the  presence 
of  a  busy,  thriving  population.  Winding  away  through 
the  centre  too,  like  a  great  artery  of  life  to  the  scene, 
I  could  behold  a  noble  branch  of  the  Ohio,  bearing 
upon  its  bosom  the  already  active  commerce  of  the 
region,  and  linking  that  spot  with  a  thousand  others, 
similar  in  their  condition  and  character.  As  I  thus 
stood,  and  thought  of  all  that  was  being  enacted  in 
this  glorious  land  of  ours,  and  saw  in  imagination,  the 
stately  centuries  as  they  passed  across  the  scene,  dif 
fusing  wealth,  prosperity  and  refinement,  I  could  not 
but  believe  that  it  presented  a  nobler  theatre,  with 
sublimer  accompaniments  and  inspirations,  than  ever 
rose  upon  the  eye  of  a  gazer  from  the  summits  of  the 
Alps  or  the  Apennines. 

Such  are  some  of  the  physical  aspects  of  our  country, 
and  such  the  influence  they  are  destined  to  have  upon 
our  national  mind.  Very  evidently  they  constitute 
noble  sources  of  inspiration,  illustration  and  descrip 
tion.  For  all  that  part  of  literature  which  is  drawn 
from  the  phases  of  nature,  from  the  varying  moods 
and  phenomena  of  the  outward  world,  the  elements 
and  the  seasons,  they  will  be  more  valuable  than  all 
the  beauties  of  the  Troad  or  Campania  Felix.  Rightly 
used,  they  would  bring  a  freshness  and  spirit  into  the 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  121 

domain  of  high  thought,  which  would  revive  it  like  a 
spring-time  return,  and  we  might  take  up,  in  a  better 
hope,  the  exultation  of  Virgil. — 

"Jam  ultima  «tas  Cumali  carminis  venit, 
Magnus  ordo  soeclorum  iiascitur  ab  integro, 
Et  jam  virgo  redit,  Saturnia  regna  redeunt  !" 

2.  These  pleasant  anticipations  are  also  justfied  in 
part,  by  the  excellent  and  diversified  character  of  the 
population  of  our  country.  Herein  will  reside  one  of 
the  strong  modifying  influences  of  Americanism  upon 
literature.  Though  our  population  is  composed  prin 
cipally  of  the  several  varieties  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
stock,  yet  every  other  race  of  Europe,  and  some  from 
the  other  continents,  have  contributed  to  swell  the 
motley  and  singular  combination.  Coming  from  every 
quarter  of  the  globe,  they  have  brought  with  them 
their  diverse  manners,  feelings,  sentiments,  and  modes  of 
thought,  and  fused  them  in  the  great  American  alembic. 
The  stern,  clear-headed,  faith-abiding  Puritan,  the 
frank,  chivalrous,  imaginative  Huguenot,  the  patient, 
deep-thoughted,  contemplative  German, — pligrims  from 
every  clime,  creed,  and  literature, — are  to  be  found  in 
contact  and  intercourse  here.  They  interact  upon 
each  other  to  fashion  all  the  manifestations  of  society, 
in  thought  or  deed.  The  contrasts  and  coincidences, 
they  present  under  our  institutions,  afford  new  and 
graceful  themes  for  the  poet,  the  novelist  and  the 
philosopher  ;  and  the  historian  will  have  to  give  us 
pictures  of  life  and  humanity  here,  such  as  are  found 
not  elsewhere.  I  need  but  allude,  in  this  connec 
tion,  to  the  existence  of  three  distinct  races  of  men 


122  ORATIONS. 

upon  our  continent,  with  their  strongly  marked  pecu 
liarities  of  conditon,  color  and  history.  The  immense 
rapidity  with  which  our  numbers  are  increasing — well 
nigh  doubling  in  every  fifteen  years  ! — will  produce  an 
unexampled  demand  for  knowledge,  and  act  as  a  pow 
erful  impetus  to  its  elevation.  Already  has  the  great 
and  fluctuating  intermixture  of  our  population  had  an 
influence  upon  the  English  language.  In  no  part  of 
the  world  is  our  mother  tongue  spoken  with  such  gen 
eral  purity  of  pronunciation,  as  in  our  country.  The 
constant  tide  of  internal  emigration  tends  to  rectify  the 
provincialisms  into  which  stationary  communities  so 
frequently  fall.  Otherwise  is  it  even  in  England. 
The  whole  kingdom  is  broken  up  into  dialects  as  nume 
rous  as  her  counties ;  and  the  respective  inhabitants  are 
almost  as  unintelligible  to  each  other,  as  if  they  spoke 
languages  radically  distinct.  Is  it  Utopian  to  expect 
the  proudest  results,  when  one  common  language  shall 
be  employed  by  the  many  millions  who  are  to  occupy 
this  almost  illimitable  republic  ? — But,  it  is  upon  the 
strong,  industrious  and  wholesome  character  of  our 
population,  that  the  best  hope  of  our  national  mind 
depends.  Their  habits  of  life  will  generate  a  muscu 
larity  of  intellect,  becoming  their  position  and  destiny. 
No  effeminacy  of  thought  or  feeling  will  be  tolerated 
among  a  people,  composed  of  the  choicest  varieties  of 
every  race,  stimulating  each  other  to  mental  exertion, 
and  accumulating  wealth  and  power  with  almost  mi 
raculous  rapidity  and  extent.  Such  a  people,  if  they 
should  have  no  powerful  impediments,  are  better  fitted 
than  any  other  to  render  the  world  an  intellectual  illu- 


AMERICANISM    IN    LITERATURE.  123 

ruination,  and   to  bring  round  in  reality  the  poetic 
vision  of  the  golden  age. 

3.  Pass  we  now  to  the  consideration  of  the  most  po 
tent  influence  of  Americanism  in  Literature  :  the  form 
and  spirit  of  our  political  institutions. — If  there  is  a 
truth  strongly  exemplified  in  history,  it  is,  that  free 
governments  are  the  best  calculated  of  any,  to  promote 
the  intellectual  and  moral  progress  of  man.  Of  all 
the  vast  tyrannies  of  antiquity,  how  few  contributed 
to  the  advancement  of  letters  !  There  is  not  in  exist 
ence  a  line  of  verse  or  philosophy  by  Chaldean, 
Babylonian,  Assyrian  or  Phoenician  author.  Pop 
ulous,  powerful  and  magnificent  as  those  kingdoms 
were,  they  yet  stand  in  history  like  the  huge  pyramid 
of  human  skulls  which  Tamerlane  erected  before  the 
gates  of  Damascus,  great,  dumb  monuments  of  human 
misery  and  oppression.  In  beautiful  contrast  are  all 
•the  free  states  of  the  past.  Under  their  genial  insti 
tutions,  the  arts,  the  sciences  and  the  refinements  of 
life  rose  into  prosperity  and  beauty,  and,  like  the 
swinging  flower-gardens  of  oriental  sumptuousness, 
diffused  a  fragrance  which  still  floats  upon  the  breezes 
of  history.  This  is  particularly  true  of  Athenian, 
Koman  and  Italian  literatures.  Just  in  proportion  to 
the  liberty  existing  among  them  at  their  respective 
eras,  was  the  extent,  the  luxuriance  of  their  mental 
developement.  It  is  so  in  the  nature  of  things.  Ty 
rannies  are  restrictions  upon  thought  and  its  utter 
ance.  Their  every  influence  must  be  directed  to  the 
suppression  of  those  great  truths  of  philosophy,  re 
ligion,  poetry  and  life,  which  are  the  soul  and  efflu- 


124  ORATIONS. 

ence  of  every  genuine  literature,  and  which  great  men; 
the  prophets,  and  apostles,  and  martyrs  of  thought, 
are  sent  into  the  world  to  preach.  It  is  true  that, 
under  monarchies,  there  have  sometimes  been  glorious 
revelations  of  genius,  learning  and  intellectual  luxury, 
as  in  the  eras  of  Augustus,  Louis  XIV.,  and  Elizabeth; 
yet  they  were  either  outbursts  of  coming  or  going 
freedom,  or  contained,  in  themselves,  but  little  that 
could  add  to  the  elevation  or  happiness  of  the  mass  of 
men.  How  few  truths,  tributary  to  the  perfect  law 
of  life,  were  brought  to  light  by  any,  the  most  gor 
geous,  of  these  intellectual  dispensations  ! 

But  this  government  of  ours  is  established  upon 
principles  more  genial  to  the  literature  of  humanity, 
than  any  other  that  has  ever  existed.  The  noble, 
broad,  philosophic  truths  at  the  basis  of  our  consti 
tution,  the  rocks  upon  which  our  house  is  built,  are 
all  conducive  to  intellectual  development.  The  fun 
damental  maxim,  that  all  men  are  politically  equal, 
which  has  done  so  much  to  elevate  humanity,  infuses 
into  literature  a  new  spirit,  as  well  as  into  govern 
ment.  The  man  of  genius  now,  however  obscure 
his  parentage,  or  humble  his  condition,  can  proudly 
hold  up  his  head,  in  the  light  of  the  common  sun,  un 
restricted,  unabashed,  by  any  of  the  miserable  fictions 
of  prerogative,  and  utter  forth,  in  the  emphasis  of 
thunder,  the  solemn  truths  he  has  learned  in  the  Pat- 
mos  of  his  imagination,  and  which  shall  make  all 
mankind  feel  that  the  propitious  bend  of  the  heaven 
comes  equally  close  to  every  descendant  of  Adam.  In 
its  whole  organism,  our  government  provides  for  the 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  125 

unrestrained  exercise  of  mind.  This  is  the  permeat 
ing  spirit  of  our  political  fabric.  The  sages  and 
statesmen  who  received  their  lessons  of  wisdom  be 
tween  the  clouds  and  thunder,  covering  the  Sinai  of 
the  Revolution,  knew  that  literature  had  always  been 
the  truest  friend  of  the  rights  of  man,  and  they  con 
sequently  provided,  in  all  our  fundamental  charters, 
for  the  encouragement  of  the  faithful  instructress. 
Freedom  of  conscience,  freedom  of  thought,  freedom 
of  speech,  and  freedom  of  the  press,  the  essentials  of 
literature,  are  the  pillars  of  our  national  edifice.  No 
other  government  has  ever  held  out,  in  itself,  so  many 
incitements  to  intellectual  action.  There  is  a  pervad 
ing  necessity  for  the  application  of  high  thought  to 
its  management,  in  every  department.  About  its 
movements  there  is  nothing  of  brute  force  ;  all  pro 
ceeds  under  the  guidance  of  constant,  indispensable 
mental  power.  That  old  dumb,  central  principle  of 
monarchies,  about  which  Blackstone,  De  Lolme  and 
Montesquieu  were  so  much  troubled,  the  absolute 
sovereignty,  is  here  an  active,  thinking,  vital  essence, 
like  the  atmosphere  we  breathe,  embracing  all,  yet  in 
every  man's  bosom,  and  calling  on  each  for  the  exer 
cise  of  his  intellectual  faculties.  The  countless  offices 
of  our  system,  open  equally  to  all,  are  so  many  spurs 
to  enterprize.  How  wide  and  minutely  diffused  is  the 
influence, — how  constant,  how  potent  !  All  of  us  are 
daily  invoked  to  the  discussion  and  decision  of  ques 
tions,  in  law,  philosophy  and  economy,  which  demand 
for  their  proper  adjustment,  all  the  learning  of  expe 
rience,  and  the  profoundest  operations  of  the  mind. 


126  ORATIONS. 

Universal  suffrage  is,  in  its  end,  universal  knowledge. 
Democracy  is  the  parent  of  literature.  Verily,  under 
these  aspects,  we  may  apply,  in  an  intellectual,  as  well 
as  political  sense,  to  every  American  citizen,  the  bold 
parallel  which  Wordsworth  draws  to  the  Highland 
freebooter : 

"  The  Eagle,  he  was  king  above, 
And  Rob  Roy,  he  was  king  below  !" 

But,  it  has  been  said,  that  though  our  institutions 
thus  hold  out  excellent  opportunities  and  stimulants 
to  intellectual  exercise,  they  are  yet  prejudicial  to 
literature  proper,  because  of  their  almost  exclusively 
political  tendency.  This  is  to  some  extent  too  true. 
Very  evidently  the  greater  part  of  our  talent  has 
hitherto  been  monopolized  by  politics.  But  that  has 
been  owing  chiefly  to  the  infancy  of  our  country.  In 
the  outset  of  a  government  so  peculiar  as  ours,  so  com 
plicated  and  popular,  in  which  so  many  arrangements 
without  precedent  had  to  be  made,  and  so  many  appa 
rently  conflicting  principles  adjusted,  it  was  natural 
that  the  talent  of  the  country  should  be  principally 
directed  to  the  affairs  of  State.  The  shining  names  in 
our  history,  who  had  won  distinction  in  our  first  politi 
cal  councils,  became  beacon-lights  to  guide  the  emulous 
spirits  of  our  youths  into  similar  careers.  Both  these 
influences  have  now  begun  to  subside.  Besides,  nations 
in  their  infancy,  like  individuals;  are  apt  to  mistake 
the  obvious  and  fascinating,  for  the  useful  and  the  true. 
As  both  advance  in  life,  they  acquire  deeper  and  wiser 
lessons.  So  far,  we  have  rushed  headlong  into  politics, 
as  much  from  the  novelty  of  the  attraction,  as  from 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  127 

any  other  cause  ;  and  the  intellectual  stature  of  men 
has  been  measured  more  by  the  number  of  offices 
they  have  held,  than  by  their  solid  contributions  to 
the  permanent  thought  of  the  country.  This  is  a  sad 
error,  and  must  die  out.  As  we  grow  older,  we  will 
learn  that  literature  is  a  far  nobler  pursuit  than  "  the 
vain,  low  strife,  that  makes  men  mad  '"  and  that  the 
philosophers,  historians,  poets  and  scholars,  the  preach 
ers  and  teachers,  are  the  great  men  of  the  time.  Poli 
tics  itself  can  never  be  a  science,  never  more  than  a 
barbarian  scramble  for  office,  unless  it  is  purified  and 
rounded  into  form  by  the  spirit  of  literature.  Already 
have  other  nations  learned  the  necessity  of  making 
their  statesmen  out  of  their  scholars.  At  this  mo 
ment  the  illustrious  Humboldt  is  prime-minister  of 
Prussia,  and  in  France,  we  see  Thiers,  Guizot,  La 
Mar  tine  and  Arago,  all  distinguished  as  authors,  oc 
cupying  the  most  prominent  political  positions. 

This  spirit,  at  no  distant  day,  must  obtain  in  our 
country.  It  is  not  our  form  of  government  or  its  ten 
dencies,  that  are  inimical  to  literature.  It  is  the  pub 
lic  taste  that  is  depraved,  the  public  mind  that  is  in 
error.  Let  these  be  rectified,  as  they  are  fast  being, 
under  the  progress  of  intelligence — before  the  out 
pourings  from  institutions  such  as  this  all  over  our 
country — and  literature  may  have  a  Lazarus-like  re 
surrection  in  these  occidental  forests.  Even  now,  if 
common  justice  were  done  to  the  authors  of  our  coun 
try,  in  protecting  them  from  the  piratical  and  nefa 
rious  system  of  plunder  from  foreign  authors  ;  if,  guided 
by  the  plainest  principles  of  justice,  Congress  would 


128  ORATIONS. 

allow  the  foreign  writer,  a  copy-right  to  secure  to  him 
the  labors  of  his  own  intellect.,  to  which  he  is  as  honestly 
entitled  as  the  people  of  Alabama  are  to  their  cattle 
which  may  stray  across  the  line  into  your  Georgia  ;  if 
we  would  protect  ourselves  from  this  "blue  and  yellow 
literature/'  the  scum  of  the  French  and  British  press, 
which  is  contaminating  our  morals,  and  depraving  our 
minds  ;  if,  in  short  we  would  be  actuated  by  elevated 
sentiments  of  patriotism,  justice,  morality  and  love  of 
letters,  to  the  adoption  of  an  international  copy-right 
law, — we  should  have  the  heralding  of  as  pure  and 
noble  a  literature  as  ever  dawned  upon  the  eyes  of 
Pericles  or  Tacitus,  Ariosto  or  Addison.  But  ah  ! 
the  present  Serbonian  system  is  worse,  far  worse,  in  its 
morals  and  moral  effects,  than  Mississippi  repudiation ! 
4.  Let  us  glance  now  at  another  aspect  of  Ameri 
canism  from  which  we  may  hope  something  for  litera 
ture.  Our  general  government  is  constructed  upon  the 
principle  of  having  as  little  to  do  as  possible  with  the 
internal,  domestic  affairs  of  society.  By  its  enumera 
ted  powers,  its  rightful  province  and  jurisdiction  are 
mainly  external.  Consequently,  after  the  general, 
and,  as  they  may  be  called,  incidental  influences,  I 
have  enumerated,  and  the  fact  that  it  guaranties  to 
each  state  a  republican  form  of  government,  it  has  but 
one  specified  provision  by  which  it  can  encourage  lite 
rature  ;  that  is  the  power  "  to  promote  the  progress 
of  science  and  the  useful  arts,  by  securing,  for  limited 
times,  to  authors  and  inventors,  the  exclusive  right  to 
their  respective  writings  and  discoveries/'  Beyond 
this,  the  entire  control  and  jurisdiction  of  all  the  vast 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  129 

territories  of  intellect, — the  flowering  Palestines  of 
mind, — are  left  exclusively  to  the  separate  populations 
of  the  several  republics  composing  the  confederacy. 
Each  State  is  the  legitimate  and  only  guardian  of  all 
the  great  interests  of  knowledge  within  her  borders. 
Unlike  the  general  government,  she  can  do  everything 
for  the  promotion  of  letters  not  prohibited  by  her  con 
stitution  ;  while  the  former  can  do  nothing,  for  which 
it  has  not  an  express  grant  of  power.  This  leaves  the 
destinies  of  education,  of  literature,  science,  and  the 
arts,  in  safer  and  more  potential  hands,  than  if  they 
were  confided  exclusively  to  national  control.  In  my 
estimation,  our  system  of  confederated  sovereignties, 
one  of  the  most  marked  features  of  Americanism,  is 
peculiarly  favorable  to  the  production  of  a  pure,  earn 
est,  life-bestowing,  beauty-breathing  literature.  Let 
us  elaborate  a  little  the  reasons  for  this  belief. 

It  was  the  benevolent  desire  of  Henry  the  IV.,  to 
which  he  was  prompted  by  the  philosophic  mind  of  his 
minister,  Sully,  to  see  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth 
united  in  peace  under  one  harmonious  government. 
•This  generous  vision,  if  feasible  at  all,  could  only  be 
realized  under  some  system  similar  to  ours.  Our  con 
federacy  is  susceptible  of  indefinite  extension.  The 
addition  of  new  States  tends  but  more  firmly  to  confine 
the  Union  to  its  legitimate  functions,  and  to  diffuse 
wider,  and  wider,  the  blessings  of  democracy,  peace, 
and  security.  Under  no  other  organism,  could  these 
fundamental  requisites  of  literature,  be  so  extensively 
attained.  A  vast  consolidated  government  could  but 
ill  provide  for  the  comfort  and  welfare  of  its  remote 


130  OKATIONS. 

parts.  It  could  not  meet  the  domestic  wants  and  in 
tellectual  demands  of  its  diversified  sections,  nor  pro 
portion  its  encouragements  to  the  peculiar  characteris 
tics  of  the  people  and  the  place.  What  general  sys 
tem  even  of  common-school  education,  would  extend 
equally  to  all  parts  of  this  vast  and  motley  Union  ? 
The  sun  himself  shines  with  a  varying  splendor  upon 
the  sands  of  Nantucket  and  the  corn-fields  of  Alabama. 
In  no  vast,  unbroken  empire,  has  literature  ever  flour 
ished.  The  gigantic  despotisms  of  Asia  are  great 
Zaharas  in  the  intellectual  world.  But  one  star  illu 
minates  the  darkness  of  that  long,  wide,  Chinese 
night, — the  star  of  Confucius.  Kussia,  with  her  teem 
ing  millions,  has  never  struck  the  harp  of  Apollo,  nor 
caught  the  glintings  of  the  silver  shield  of  Minerva. 
There  they  stand,  in  blank,  grey  stupendousness,  like 
the  sphinx  upon  the  sands  of  Egypt,  giving  no  answer  to 
the  questionings  of  intellect !  So  evermore  with  these 
giant  consolidations.  Government  must  come  down, 
and  shape  itself  to  the  varying  conditions  of  men.  As 
with  us,  it  must  have  its  wheels  within  its  wheels, 
each  one,  as  in  the  vision  of  the  prophet,  vital  with  a 
distinct  interest,  yet  moving  out  sympathetically  to 
the  whole.  This  then  becomes  disembarrassed  of  those 
minute  details,  and  innumerrble  complex  duties,  which 
exist  in  every  social  system,  aiid  which  have  to  be  ob 
served  and  nourished  before  a  literature  can  be  created. 
But  this  federated  system  prevents  another  detrimen 
tal  influence  of  consolidated  governments.  Wherever 
there  is  a  great  central  capital,  the  whole  intel 
lectual  wealth  of  the  country,  whether  invested  in 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  131 

literature  or  politics,  becomes  accumulated  in  it.  It 
forms  a  conspicious  reservoir,  to  which  all  the  foun 
tains  have  to  flow,  before  they  can  be  distributed 
through  the  land.  Imperious  laws  are  there  given  to 
the  world  of  letters,  and  all  other  competition  is 
frowned  down  and  destroyed  before' the  fashions  of  the 
metropolis.  We  see  this  illustrated  in  France  and 
England.  Before  genius  can  find  an  audible  utter 
ance,  it  has  to  travel  up  to  London  or  Paris  :  even 
such  men  as  Johnson  and  Voltaire  were  not  exempt 
from  the  necessity.  They  had  to  prune  and  warp 
their  intellects  to  the  whims  of  the  book-pedlars  and 
play-mongers  in  Grub-street,  or  the  Rue  de  la  Paix. 
So  evermore  :  Every  thing  provincial  is  denounced 
and  rejected.  The  best  book,  issued  in  Leeds  or  Man 
chester,  in  Bourdeaux  or  Marseilles,  is  consigned  at 
once  to  oblivion,  before  the  literary  dictatorship  of  the 
metropolis.  No  good  thing  can  come  out  of  Nazareth ; 
there  is  no  divinity  among  Gallilean  peasants.  The 
result  of  all  this  is  most  pernicious.  Poor  genius  is 
compelled  to  languish  in  obscurity  in  the  provinces  ; 
the  God  dies  in  the  manger  ;  and  the  entire  literature 
of  the  country,  instead  of  being  the  large,  fresh,  oak- 
like  growth  of  the  heart  of  the  whole  people,  becomes 
the  dwarfed  and  noxious  vegetation  of  a  hot-bed  of 
vice  and  effeminacy. 

These  evil  influences  can  never  exist  with  us.  Our 
institutions  disseminate  their  influence  through  every 
portion  of  the  Union.  Each  State  has  its  own  capi 
tal,  whence  proceeds  the  legislation  which  is  to  de- 
velope  and  form  the  mind  of  its  inhabitants.  True,  as 


132  ORATIONS. 

yet,  these  several  centres  are  weak  and  uninfluential ; 
but,  as  the  States  swell  in  power,  wealth,  importance  ; 
as  they  begin  to  feel,  each  for  itself,  as  every  com 
munity  sooner  or  later  must  feel,  the  necessity  for  a 
home  literature  ;  then  the  advantages  of  our  distribu 
tive  system  will  be  happily  discovered.  At  the  least, 
we  shall  always  have  a  number  of  large  cities  in  this 
Union,  at  remote  points,  with  equal  centrifugal  forces  ; 
thus  preserving  our  literature  from  being  concentred  in 
one  metropolis,  while  the  rest  of  the  country  is  left  in 
comparative  darkness,  and  the  bright  servitress  becomes, 
as  she  too  frequently  has  been  forced  to  be,  a  vile 
pander  to  the  bad  passions  of  the  enemies  of  free 
institutions. 

The  rivalry  and  emulation  which  must  always  exist 
among  the  several  States  of  the  confederacy,  will  be 
highly  favorable  to  literature.  Each  State  will  be  un 
willing  to  be  surpassed  by  a  sister  in  the  promotion  of 
letters.  This  feeling  has  already  given  rise  to  the 
many  institutions  for  high  learning  which  exist  in  our 
country.  Even  now  we  have  well-nigh  a  hundred 
universities  or  colleges,  a  larger  number  than  any  other 
country  upon  the  globe.  These  are  the  nurseries  of 
that  genius  and  talent,  which  must  blossom  into 
beauty, — into  literature.  The  young  men  of  each 
section  will  not  consent  to  fall  behind  those  of  any  other 
in  those  elevated  achievements,  which,  while  they  shed 
a  morning-light  of  gracefulness  over  the  institutions  of 
their  country,  will  make  their  own  names  as  musical 
upon  the  lips  of  history  as  those  of  Cicero  or  Milton,  of 
Thucvdides  or  Shelley.  Everv  one  will  strive  to  be 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  133 

faithful  to  the  highest  interest,  the  honor  and  dignity, 
the  faith  and  lineaments,  of  his  nourishing  parent. 
The  intellectual  manifestations  of  each  section  will  thus 
partake  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  State  in  which  they 
may  arise,  its  moral  and  physical  phases,  and  thus  our 
national  literature,  while,  in  its  parts,  it  is  stimulated 
by  a  generous  rivalry,  will  imbibe  an  originality  and 
freshness  thereby,  that  will  make  it  not  unlike  our 
national  government,  receiving  its  vigor  and  permanence 
from  the  individual  prosperity  of  its  component  sover 
eignties. 

The  lessons  of  history,  that  experimental  philoso 
pher,  might  be  quoted  in  behalf  of  the  position  that 
belles-lettres  have  ever  flourished,  to  the  greatest 
advantage,  under  an  associated  system  of  small,  in 
dependent  States.  But  the  illustrations  are  familiar, 
and  I  shall  pass  on,  content  with  only  pointing  you  to 
the  contrast  between  the  intellectual  conditions  of 
Greece  and  Italy,  during  the  existence  of  their  repub 
lics,  and  when  these  were  extinguished  in  the  broad 
expanse  of  consolidated  dominion ;  as  also  to  the 
history  of  the  Swiss  Cantons,  the  Hanseatic  Towns, 
the  Baltic  Circle,  and  the  present  condition  of  the 
States  of  Germany.  Though  none  of  them  can  be  com 
pared,  in  excellence  of  political  arrangement,  with  our 
country,  yet  it  is  certainly  a  significant  fact  that,  in 
proportion  as  they  have  approximated  to  the  system 
of  confederated  sovereignties,  literature,  science  and 
art  have  flourished  in  their  borders.  Well,  then,  might 
Sisniondi,  in  his  glowing  picture  of  the  Italian  repub-  * 
lies,  a  book  every  American  should  read,  regret,  with 


134  ORATIONS. 

a  deep  pathos,  the  extinguishment  of  their  separate 
existence,  as  the  stoppage-up  of  so  many  well-heads  of 
moral  and  social  refinement. 

We  have  now  taken  a  general  view  of  some  of  the 
principal  features  of  Americanism,  as  I  call  it, — its 
governmental,  social  and  physical  aspects, — in  reference 
to  their  influence  upon  the  developement  of  literature. 
These,  it  must  be  admitted,  are  highly  auspicious  for 
the  future,  even  if,  as  is  too  true,  they  have  accom 
plished  but  little  as  yet.  They  must  work  out  our 
intellectual  redemption  in  the  long  to-come,  and  give 
us  a  republic  of  letters,  as  vigorous,  symmetrical, 
lovely  and  expansive,  as  its  kindred  political  system, — 
as  the  broad  theatre  upon  which  our  many  millions  are 
to  move.  This  new  literature  is  to  be  something  un 
like  any  thing  of  the  past.  It  is  not  to  be  a  re-pro 
duction  of  the  worn-out  articles  of  faith,  philosophy, 
poetry,  or  fable,  of  antiquity.  No,  God  forbid  !  I 
would  not  reproduce  here,  if  I  could,  that  golden  age 
of  Augustus,  nor  those  diamond  days  of  Elizabeth,  of 
which  we  have  before  spoken.  No  !  Americanism  has 
a  destiny  of  its  own  to  accomplish  in  literature.  It 
has  to  work  out  a  system  of  thought,  unlike  any  that 
has  gone  before,  mirroring  truly  the  new  phases  of 
humanity,  of  society,  of  government,  that  are  here 
coming  forth.  The  literatures  of  all  other  nations  are 
entirely  inadequate,  unfit  for  Americanism.  We  mint 
have  a  literature  congenial  to  our  institutions,  to  our 
position,  to  our  great  democratic  faith.  This  we  want 
exceedingly  now.  We  want  a  literature  not  unlike 
that  which  Milton,  and  Marvell,  and  Sidney,  and 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  135 

Harrington,  and  Fletcher  of  Saltoun,  foreshadowed 
in  the  times  of  the  Protectorate  :  a  literature,  gailino- 

J  '         O 

like  a  ship  across  the  ocean  of  time,  freighted  with  the 
noblest  interests,  the  Manilla  ransom  of  humanity,  and 
bearing  onward  ever,  all  sails  set,  before  the  steady 
breezes  of  that  old  Millenial  progress.  Yes  !  Ameri 
canism  is  to  achieve  important  modifications  in  the 
spirit  and  faith  of  literature.  What  some  of  these  will 
be,  it  is  not  difficult  to  determine. 

Is  it  not  singular  that,  in  the  six  thousand  years 
we  have  been  upon  the  earth,  so  little  has  been  estab 
lished  in  political  philosophy  ?  Few  truths  touching 
the  rights  or  relations  of  man,  the  authority  of  rulers, 
or  the  best  forms  and  essential  principles  of  govern 
ment,  are  of  general  reception  even  among  the  most 
intelligent  and  cultivated  minds.  The  details  of 
policy  and  practice  are  still  more  diverse  and  unset 
tled.  Well-nigh  every  government  has  proceeded  upon 
some  radically  erroneous  tenet.  This  has  dislocated 
and  disordered  the  whole  machinery.  Ours  is  the 
first  that  has  squared  its  foundations  according  to  the 
immutable  laws  of  human  nature.  Taking  for  its 
polar-star,  its  watchword — "  equality  and  justice  to 
all/'  it  has  been  enabled,  in  its  spirit  and  practice,  to 
comport  with  the  requisitions  of  sound  reason.  Thus 
our  government  will  be  able  to  present  to  the  world, 
not  only  the  model  of  a  system  approaching  perfection, 
but  more  correct  and  elevated  postulates  and  maxims 
in  political  science,  than  have  ever  before  been  pro 
pounded.  This  we  must  do,  in  justice  to  ourselves 
and  our  institutions.  The  very  text-books  used  in  our 


136  ORATIONS. 

schools  and  colleges,  and  by  our  law  students,  are 
filled  with  iniquitous  sophisms  and  falsehoods.  All 
other  governments  are  bending  their  genius  and  learn 
ing  against  the  faith  and  polity  upon  which  we  prac 
tice.  It  is  ours  to  justify  these  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  from  the  insidious  as  well  as  open  attacks  of  our 
enemies,  and  to  sow  broad-cast  the  exalted  principles 
of  democracy,  until  every  people,  within  the  blue 
girdle  of  the  sun,  shall  lift  up  their  hands  in  joy  upon 
their  hills,  and  shout  aloud,  in  the  ecstacy  of  regener 
ating  freedom.  Political  philosophy  is,  as  yet,  scarce 
ly  a  recognized  science  ;  but  I  firmly  believe  that  it 
is  to  be  the  destiny,  as  it  certainly  is  the  duty,  of  our 
country,  to  give  to  the  world,  lessons  of  wisdom,  in 
both  its  branches,  of  ethics  and  economy,  which  will 
do  more  for  the  diffusion  of  truth,  and  the  elevation 
of  man,  than  any  other  influence  since  the  writings  of 
Luther  and  Melancthon.  The  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence  was  the.  first  star  of  the  morning,  but  it  will 
be  followed,  in  the  figurative  language  of  Shelley,  by 
its  "  flocks  of  golden  bees,"  until  the  whole  sky  shall 
be  luminous  with  truth  and  beauty. 

Another  great  achievement  for  American  genius,  is 
to  rectify  the  erroneous  spirit  of  history.  From  the 
times  of  Herodotus  to  Hallam,  all  history  has  been 
written  wrong.  It  has  been,  throughout,  a  specious 
and  cunning  defence  of  the  assumptions  of  the  few, 
against  the  rights  of  the  many.  Kings  and  courtiers, 
knights  and  warriors,  Ghengis  Khans  and  Coeur  de 
Leons, — the  tyrants  and  murderers  of  mankind, — have 
been  made  to  walk  in  stately  procession,  through  its 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  137 

dramatic  scenery,  while  the  mighty  people,  each  one 
more  truly  preserving  the  image  of  his  maker,  have 
been  treated  as  so  many  dumb  beasts  of  burden. 
Instead  of  being,  as  it  was  first  called  by  Dionysius  of 
Halicarnassus,  "  philosophy  teaching  by  example,"  it 
has  been,  example  distorting  philosophy.  Well  might 
Sir  Robert  Walpole,  in  his  dying  hours,  exclaim, 
"  Read  me  not  history  ;  I  will  believe  any  thing  but 
that."  Verily,  the  world  has  always  been  imposed 
upon  by  these  lying  Books  of  Chronicles  !  Look  for 
instance,  at  the  histories  of  the  French  Revolution. 
What  writer  has  ever  faithfully  portrayed  the  spirit 
and  incidents  of  that  great  struggle  for  the  rights  of 
man  !  All  have  attempted  to  excite  our  sympathies 
for  the  stolid  Bourbons,  and  the  supercilious  noblesse  of 
the  old  regime,  and  to  stir  our  indignation  against  the 
tumultous  upheavings  of  long  depressed  hnmanity. 
Even  Scott  prostituted  his  fine  genius  to  the  miserable 
task  of  framing  a  distorted  argument  in  defence  of  the 
aristocratic  principle  ;  and  Archibald  Allison  has  re 
cently  strutted  forth,  in  pompous  tomes,  to  hurl  his 
anathemas  upon  every  manifestation  of  democracy, 
whether  in  France  or  America  ! 

All  this,  I  say,  has  to  be  rectified.  The  whole  vol 
ume  of  history  must  be  re- writ  ten  in  a  different  spirit, 
with  kindlier  principles  and  a  better  faith.  Our  sym 
pathies  should  be  stirred  in  behalf  of  the  suffering 
citizen,  not  the  bloated  despot  :  for  the  father  toiling 
in  the  long  afternoon  of  those  days,  gone  a  hundred 
years  ago,  to  earn  a  scanty  subsistence  for  his  children, 
and  not  for  the  pampered  patrician,  revelling  in  wealth 


138  ORATIONS. 

acquired  only  by  governmental  fraud  and  extortion. 
This  is  the  spirit  of  our  institutions,  and  should  be 
the  spirit  of  our  literature.  Written  in  this  faith, 
what  a  change  would  take  place  in  the  philosophy  of 
all  history,  and  chiefly  of  that  French  Revolution ! 
No  longer  should  we  have  it  depicted  only  as  a  savage 
outbreak  of  the  worst  passions  of  depraved  humanity, 
but,  what  it  was,  in  some  sort,  an  honest,  faithful,  yet 
terrible,  bloody,  and  dreadfully  perverted  struggle  of 
an  injured  people  to  free  themselves  from  the  grinding 
oppressions  of  a  long-continued  loathsome  tyranny. 
The  heart-sickening  excesses  and  horrors  of  the  time 
would  be  charged,  in  the  main,  to  those  who  attempted 
to  resist  and  crush  the  popular  spirit.  Through  the 
whole  fell,  demon  tragedy,  we  should  see  one  benevo 
lent  purpose  at  work,  like  the  memories  of  his  youth 
in  a  bad  man's  heart,  which  would  justify  many  acts 
now  regarded  with  odium  and  reproach.  What  a  dif 
ferent  estimate,  too,  would  be  placed  upon  some  of  the 
most  conspicuous  actors  in  that  bloody  drama.  Robes 
pierre  is  commonly  represented  as  a  fiend  incarnate. 
This  sentence,  it  has  recently  been  contended,  is,  to  a 
great  degree,  unjust.  Those  who  knew  him  well,  say 
that  in  the  private  and  domestic  virtues,  in  amiability 
of  character,  and  in  strong  religious  feeling,  he  was 
not  the  inferior  of  any  of  the  cotemporary  leaders  of 
the  Revolution.  While  it  is  admitted  that  he  was 
driven,  by  the  exigencies  of  the  time,  into  many  des 
perate  expedients,  over  which  humanity  must  ever 
shudder  ;  yet  it  is  contended  that  he  was  by  no  means 
the  author  of  the  long  catalogue  of  crimes  which  were 


AMERICANISM   IN    LITERATURE.  139 

laid  at  his  door.  How  the  truth  may  be  I  shall  not 
now  pretend  to  determine  ;  but  certainly  we  should 
receive  the  popular  versions  with  some  critical  hesita 
tion,  when  we  reflect  that  the  commentators  upon 
Robespierre  and  the  Revolution  have,  with  scarcely  an 
exception,  been  monarchists  or  aristocrats.  They  have 
delighted  to  heap  all  obloquy  upon  him  and  his  party, 
because  they  were  the  ultra-republicans  of  France, 
and  would  hold  no  middle-ground  short  of  unqualified 
freedom.  It  is  success  that  turns  the  rebel  into  the 
hero  ;  and  if  those  Jacobin  clubs  had  succeeded  in 
their  effort  to  establish  the  broadest  democracy,  the 
name  of  Robespierre,  instead  of  being  cast  out  among 
men,  as  a  synonyme  for  all  that  is  brutal  and  bloody, 
might  even,  perhaps,  have  been  recorded  in  history,  by 
these  sycophantic  dispensers  of  fame,  as  one  of  the 
benefactors  of  the  human  family. 

To  do  justice  to  this  great  Revolution,  as  well  as  in 
all  the  other  chapters  of  history,  is  a  part  of  the  mis 
sion  of  Americanism.  It  is  a  noble  enterprise,  and, 
to  my  mind,  presents  a  powerful  inducement  to  the 
cultivation,  by  us,  of  letters.  Already  has  a  native 
author,  of  ample  capacities,  given  us  a  glowing  his 
tory  of  our  own  country,  and  of  connected  events 
in  Europe,  conceived  and  executed  in  the  right  spirit, 
with  a  genuine  philosophy.  Two  others,  inspired 
by  the  same  high  faith,  have  thrown  the  sunlight  of 
American  genius,  over  kindred  provinces  of  history, 
and  become  honored  apostles  of  the  creed  which  I 
Would  inculcate  to-day.  Already  the  names  of  Ban 
croft,  Prescott,  and  Irving,  are  uttered  by  the  genuine 


140  ORATIONS. 

lovers  of  the  literature  of  humanity,  with  deeper  re 
gard  than  those  of  Tacitus,  Livy,  Hume,  or  Gibbon. 
When  American  genius  shall,  in  a  similar  spirit,  have 
encircled  the  whole  field  of  the  past ;  drawn  out 
from  eras,  governments  and  occurrences,  their  pro 
per  lessons  of  instruction  ;  weighed,  in  an  equal  bal 
ance,  emperors  and  peasants,  conquerors  and  cap 
tives  ;  and  tried  all  by  that  great  test  of  merit, — 
what  have  they  done  for  human  progress  ? — then,  and 
not  till  then,  can  history  assert  any  claim  to  the 
attributes  of  philosophy.  Oh  !  ever  be  the  past 
brought  to  us  in  its  truth,  that  it  may  guide  us  aright 
in  our  wanderings  through  the  future  ! 

Other  fields  stand  invitingly  open,  with  similar 
persuasives  for  culture  by  American  minds.  Poetry, 
metaphysics,  ethics,  each  and  all,  need  accommoda 
tion  to  the  faith  and  polity  adopted  here.  In  their 
spirit,  their  essence,  not  in  their  form  and  embellish 
ment  only,  they,  are  philosophic  powers  for  the  pro 
motion  of  the  highest  happiness.  Hitherto  they 
have  achieved  little  of  their  proper  evangelism  in 
the  world.  They  have  stood,  with  the  materialists 
of  the  last  century,  upon  the  external  accidents  of 
man,  and  reasoned  inward  to  the  soul  ;  rather  should 
they  stand,  like  angels  in  the  door  of  that  temple,  and 
look  out  through  its  portals,  upon  the  blue  sky  and 
the  green  earth,  the  revolving  wheels  and  the  inclined 
planes,  the  ethical  positions  and  relations,  that  are 
framed  and  energized  by  the  out-running  laws  pro 
pounded  in  there.  This  spiritualism  is  the  increasing 
faith  of  the  age  ;  and  it  alone  is  reconcilable  with  en- 


AMERICANISM  IN  LITERATURE.  141 

lightened  democracy.  How  it  must  manifest  itself  in 
the  more  ideal  part  of  our  literature,  I  would  gladly 
linger  to  examine  ;  but  we  have  tamed  too  long  with 
these  imperfect  speculations,  and  must  pass  to  a  con 
clusion. 

Though  I  have  insisted  that  Americanism,  in  all  its 
various  phenomena, — in  the  magnificent  and  impe 
rial  spread  of  our  country,  its  diversified  climates, 
scenery,  and  productions — in  the  excellent  character 
of  our  population,  their  rapid  increase  and  extension, 
their  hardy  habits,  and  unity  of  language,  faith  and 
feeling — in  the  noble  principles  of  our  national  consti 
tution,  and  in  the  excellent  arrangement  and  operation 
of  our  confederated  system  : — though  in  all  this,  I  have 
insisted  that  Americanism  is  highly  auspicious  to  lite 
rature,  and  that  in  every  department  of  thought,  there 
is  imperious  demand  for  the  rectifying  spirit  ; — yet  I 
would  not  be  misunderstood.  I  have  little  faith  in 
American  literature,  in  its  tendencies  and  achieve 
ments,  thus  far.  We  have  shamefully  neglected  alike 
our  mission  and  its  opportunities.  A  multitude  of  per 
nicious  influences,  chiefly  coming  from  our  social  con 
dition,  have  checked  and  thwarted  intellectual  devel 
opment.  Some  of  these  I  have  incidentally  mention 
ed  ;  the  others  need  not  now  be  enumerated.  Suffice 
it  to  say,  one  of  the  strongest  impediments  has  been 
the  timid  and  time-serving  spirit  of  the  great  body  of 
the  scholars  of  our  country.  Entrusted  with  the  care 
and  keeping  of  the  ark  of  the  intellectual  covenant,  they 
have  yet  suffered  it  to  be  polluted  by  the  hands  of  the 
ignorant  and  vulgar,  and  have  yielded  themselves  to 


142  ORATIONS. 

the  blind  infidelity,  the  anti-literary  prejudice,  of  the 
day.  Shame,  sharne,  to  the  faithless  disciples  of  this 
great  religion  of  the  mind  !  They  have  sold  them 
selves  and  their  salvation  for  thirty  pieces  of  silver  ! — 
It  is  to  her  scholars, — those  whom  her  institutions 
have  nourished  into  intellectual  manhood,  that  a 
country  has  the  best  right  to  look  for  the  preservation 
of  her  highest  interests,  and  they  should  be  willing, 
with  Gallileo,  to  endure  solitude,  poverty,  derision, 
even  martyrdom,  in  behalf  of  the  "  good  old  cause." 

Yes  :  the  speculations  we  have  indulged  in  to-day, 
look  chiefly  to  the  future.  Come  however  slowly  it 
may,  a  literature  must  come  beneath  these  occidental 
sunsets.  The  influences  enumerated,  will  work  out  an 
intellectual  reformation,  as  certain  as  the  laws  of  vege 
tation,  or  the  going  round  of  the  day-time.  When 
the  low  philosophy  and  material  purposes,  now  domi 
nant,  shall  have  perished,  as  they  must,  before  the 
steady  progress  of  education  ;  when  the  hundreds  of 
scholars,  who  are  annually  poured  out  from  our  colle 
ges  and  universities,  shall  have  swelled  to  thousands, 
all  faithful  to  the  high  interests  committed  to  their 
guardianship  ;  when  our  literary  men  shall  appreciate 
properly  the  true  dignity  and  nobleness  of  their  voca 
tion  ;  and  when  our  country  shall  feel  the  old  necessity 
of  employing  in  her  councils,  her  philosophers  and 
scholars,  instead  of  the  brawling  demagogue  and  vapid 
dunce  ; — we  shall  have  the  fulfilment  of  the  vision 
whose  prophetic  rays  have  touched  our  eyes  to-day. 
The  period  may  be  remote,  but  its  advent  is  certain. 
The  cause  of  literature  cannot  be  stopped.  It  is  the 


AMERICANISM    IN    LITERATURE.  143 

cause  of  civilization,  refinement,  virtue,  religion,  human 
progress  !  Let  us  then  abide  in  the  faith  that  this 
country  of  ours,  as  she  is  destined  to  present  to  the 
world,  the  proudest  spectacle  of  political  greatness  ever 
beheld,  will  not  be  neglectful  of  the  other,  the  highest 
interest  of  humanity,  its  intellectual  ascension  ;  but 
that  both  shall  flourish  here,  in  unexampled  splendor, 
with  reciprocal  benefit,  beneath  the  ample  folds  of  that 
banner,  which  shall  then  float  out,  in  its  blue  beauty, 
like  a  tropical  night,  brilliant  with  the  stars  of  a  whole 
hemisphere  ! 


JACK-CADEISM  AA'D  THE  FINE  ARTS 


AN    ORATION 


BEFORE    THE 


ALABAMA, 

JUNE    16,    1841. 


ORATION. 


GENTLEMEN  : 

In  this  age  and  country  of  ours,  it  requires  a 
bold  spirit  to  assert,  amid  the  din  and  bustle  of  or 
dinary  life, —  the  stir  of  the  market  place,  and  the  ex 
citement  of  the  exchange, — the  pure  and  elevated 
claims  of  literature.  The  world,  at  least  that  portion 
of  it  which  lies  about  our  doors,  is  essentially  mechan 
ical  The  grinding  of  the  mill  and  the  rattle  of  the 
railroad  constitute  the  music  which  is  most  compla 
cent  to  the  ears  of  men.  Every  other  spirit  is  ab 
sorbed  in  a  feverish  struggle  for  gain.  "  Put  money  in 
the  pocket," — is  the  ruling  precept  of  the  day. 
Nothing,  the  value  of  which  you  cannot  calculate  in 
dollars  and  cents,  is  tolerated  by  society.  The  blot- 
ting-book  and  the  ledger,  the  shipping  list  and  the 
broker's  bulletin,  make  up  the  popular  literature  of 
the  mass. 

This  spirit  rules  in  every  department  of  life.  Even 
the  precincts  once  sacred  to  a  better  divinity  have  been 
violated  by  its  approch,  and  "the  camp,  the  court,  the 


148  ORATIONS. 

grove/'  so  sweetly  devoted,  by  the  Wizard  of  the 
North,  to  the  gentlest  faith  of  man,  have  yielded  to 
its  sullen  dominion.  It  may  truly  be  said  to  be  the 
dominant  Spirit  of  the  Age. 

Every  era  has  been  denominated  in  history  from  the 
ruling  characteristics  of  the  people.  Thus,  we  have 
the  Golden  Age  of  Augustus,  and  the  Keign  of  Terror 
of  Robespierre.  Our  time  has  received  many  appella 
tions.  By  some,  it  has  been  called  the  Age  of  Me 
chanical  Science  ;  by  others,  the  Age  of  Utility. — By 
none,  even  of  its  self-gratulators,  or  pseudo-perfection 
ists,  has  it  been  denominated  the  Age  of  Moral  Ee- 
finement.  Whatever  appellation,  the  History  Buil 
ders  of  after  time  may  give  us,  unless  a  deep  regard  is 
paid  to  the  spirit  I  have  mentioned,  will  be  a  gross 
misnomer. 

The  manifestations,  from  which  our  era  is  to  be 
distinguished,  unlike  those  of  antiquity,  are  confined 
to  no  one  country.  The  world  is  not  now,  as  it  was 
some  six  centuries  ago,  spotted  all  over,  like  a  tesselated 
pavement,  by  a  thousand  contrarieties  of  color  ;  by 
every  diversity  of  purpose  and  ambition.  Everywhere, 
from  the  land  of  Hong  Foy  and  Houqua,  the  Tea 
Merchants,  to  the  home  of  Sir  Mulberry  Hawk  or  My 
Lord  Verisopht,  from  the  quays  of  Liverpool  to  the 
cabins  on  the  Oregon,  the  passion  for  pelf,  for  money- 
making,  is  the  arch  monopolist, — the  insatiable 
Neptune  that  eats  up  all  other  Gods. 

But  it  is  in  our  own  country,  that  this  creeping 
autocrat  has  its  firmest  home. — We  talk  of  the  great 
ness  of  these  American  States  ;  of  their  power  and 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  149 


glory  ;  their  commerce  cresting  every  sea  ;  their  agri 
cultural  and  mechanical  wealth  ;  their  iron  muscles 
on  the  land,  and  their  great  pulsating  arteries  ;  their 
emigrants  pitching  their  tents  by  the  brackish  waters 
of  the  far  prairies,  or  felling  forests  through  which  the 
buffalo  and  moose  had  roamed  unscared  since  the 
cradling  of  Time.  All  this  is  true,  and  more.  But 
what  is  it  all  ?  It  cannot  be  denied  that  we  have 
done  much  for  the  conveniences  of  civilized  man  ;  that 
we  have  extended  the  arm  of  dominion  over  the  ele 
ments  ;  made  them  draw  on  the  turnpike  and  spin  in 
the  manufactory.  We  have  truly  given  man  a  right 
to  the  title  of  the  Queller  and  Controller  of  physical 
nature.  Yet,  what  does  all  this,  in  its  best  phase, 
imply  ?  Does  it  not  all  look'  one  way,  down  one  vista, 
to  one  end, — the  accumulation  of  property  ?  Have 
not  all  our  efforts  been  directed  to  the  developement 
of  the  physical  energies  of  the  country ;  to  the  im 
provement  of  the  national  sinews,  and  not  the  nation 
al  mind,  to  say  nothing  of  the  national  heart  ?  And 
has  not  the  result, — boast  of  it  as  we  may, — declaim 
in  heroics  about  it,  as  all  may  do,  from  the  unbearded 
sophomore  to  the  Elisha-like  senator, — been  but  com 
mensurate  with  the  cause  ?  Loving  my  country  with 
all  the  fervor  and  enthusiasm  of  a  heart  by  no  means 
cold  ;  loving  her  more  for  what  she  might  and  ought 
to  be,  than  for  what  she  is  ;  I  must  yet  confess,  with 
a  lowering  of  pride,  that  I  see,  in  her  vaunted  stupen- 
dousness,  more  of  physical,  than  of  moral  or  intel 
lectual  greatness  ! 

If,  from  our  country  at  large,  we  direct  our  minds, 


150  OKATIONS. 

under  the  same  train  of  thought,  to  the  section  in 
which  we  live  ;  this  proud  Southwest,  the  land  of 
the  cotton  plant  and  the  magnolia,  the  palmetto  and 
the  sugar  cane  ;  how  sad  is  the  contemplation  !  With 
all  her  acknowledged  superiority  in  climate,  in  soil,  in 
natural  productions,  in  her  mighty  fretwork  of  naviga 
ble  rivers,  in  the  intrinsic  character  of  her  population  ; 
do  we  not  find  that  she  is  thoroughly  engrossed  in  the 
paltry  passion  for  pounds  and  pence,  and  that  her 
greatest  proficiency  is,  to  speak  symbolically,  in  the 
limited  philosophy  of  the  ploughshare  and  the  jack- 
plane,  or  the  degraded  cunning  of  the  yard-stick  and 
the  packing  screw  ?  You  must  pardon  me  if  this 
language  is  too  plain  ;  for  I  have  a  duty  to  do,  and  in 
sincerity  it  shall  be  done. 

Any  one,  who  will  cast  an  observant  eye  upon  the 
pursuits  of  our  people,  will  find  how  deeply  this  spirit 
of  utilitarianism,  as  by  courtesy  of  speech  ft  is  called,  is 
ingrained  in  the  very  constitution  of  our  society.  All 
our  occupations — professions  and  trades  alike, — have 
in  view  only  one  end.  The  great  study  of  the  farmer, 
the  lawyer,  the  physician,  the  merchant,  the  mechanic, 
is  how  to  double  his  profits.  Even  those  in  high 
places, — the  legislators  of  the  land, — would  not  "patri 
otically  serve  the  public  "  a  day,  if  you  withdrew  their 
per  diem  allowance.  This  inordinate  passion  is  like 
the  lean  kine  of  the  dreaming  monarch  ;  swallowing 
up  every  better  purpose.  It  gives  its  hue  and  impress 
to  every  phase  and  feature  of  life.  The  parent,  in  the 
education  of  his  child,  must  have  him  taught  only 
those  things,  which  will  be  of  practical  value  !  Educa- 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE   FINE   ARTS.  151 

tion  itself  is  curbed  and  fashioned  by  the  influence. 
After  delving  in  a  miserable  way,  for  a  few  years,  over 
the  primary  branches  of  instruction,  the  hopeful  youth, 
now  that  he  is  bearded  and  built  like  his  father, 
assumes  the  full  stature  of  an  educated  man  ;  with 
just  knowledge  enough,  neglected  as  it  is  ever  after,  to 
addle  his  brain,  and  engender  a  spirit  of  ignorant 
vanity, — self-chuckling  and  deaf, — which  besets  and 
debases  his  whole  moral  nature.  The  limits,  which 
the  law  sets  up  between  the  man  and  the  minor,  being 
passed,  or  the  Baccalaureal  Letters  Patent  obtained, 
whoever  heard  of  the  student  continuing  his  studies  in 
our  country  ?  He  at  once  launches  out  into  all  the 
petty  plans  and  speculations  of  "  the  good  old  way,  in 
which  his  fathers  went/'  He  loses  all  remembrance  of 
the  Pierian  fountain,  if  ever  he  had  knelt  at  its  moss- 
covered  curb-stone  ;  and  remembers  the  beautiful  days 
of  his  youth,  only  as  so  much  time  squandered  in  idle 
pursuits,  under  tyrannical  taskmasters.  This  is  the 
character  of  the  greater  portion  of  our  youth  ;  and 
verily,  it  may  be  said,  few  of  them  are  likely  to  die  of 
that  disease  which  Festus  thought  had  affected  Paul. 
The  noble  race  of  the  olden  scholars  has  never  existed 
in  our  land.  We  know  nothing  of  that  generous  order 
of  intellectual  Palestra?,  who,  from  youth  to  manhood, 
from  manhood  to  age,  with  an  enthusiasm  as  deep  as 
woman's  love,  drank  of  the  golden  waters  of  philosophy 
in  the  sacred  grove  of  Academe,  or,  in  a  later  age,  bent, 
with  a  fever  at  the  heart,  and  a  hectic  flush  upon  the 
pallid  cheek,  over  dingy  scrolls,  in  the  midnight  quiet 
of  a  German  University. 


152  ORATIONS. 

All  the  sentiments  and  habits  of  our  people  are  at 
war  with  such  a  life.  They  regard  purely  intellectual 
pursuits  in  a  man,  as  mere  idle  revery.  They  only 

"  Bend  the  pregnant  hinges  of  the  knee 
Where  thrift  may  follow  fawning" — 

and,  not  comprehending,  they  despise  the  habits  of 
that  man,  who  gives  his  days  and  nights  to  Letters. 
Indeed,  the  opposition  goes  so  far,  that  the  man  who  is 
at  all  literary  is  deemed  unfit  for  any  practical  part  in 
life.  No  matter  how  great  may  be  his  intellect ;  no 
matter  though  he  could  thread  and  untangle,  almost 
with  the  ease  of  intuition,  the  thousand  little  intrica 
cies,  over  which  they  blunder  a  ad  fumble  with  painful 
perseverance  ;  he  is  yet  elbowed  aside  in  the  press  of 
life,  to  make  room  for  men  as  far  his  inferiors,  as  the 
shrivelled  shrub  of  a  summer's  garden  is  to  the  tempest- 
stemming  pine.  It  is  the  fate  of  genius  to  be  suspected 
if  not  despised  ;  and  nothing  is  more  common  in  all 
our  village  streets  than  to  hear  the  sneering  prophecies 
of  the  dunce  and  dotard — those  human  moles  who  ridge 
the  footpath, — that  such  a  one  will  never  be  of  any  ac 
count  in  life  ;  for  he  is  a  literary  man  !  This  is  not 
the  case  in  our  country  alone.  "  Beggary  and  genius 
have  become  proverbial  synonymes  with  the  vulgar  of 
almost  every  nation  ;  and  nothing  is  so  distressing  to 
the  green-grocer  or  the  butter-merchant,  as  the  dreadful 
apprehension  that  his  favorite  son  Jacky  may  yet  turn 
out  to  be  a  Genius."* 

*  W.  G.  Simms, — in  the  Magnolia. 


JACK-CADEISM   AND   THE   FINE   ARTS.  153 

Sucli  being  the  spirit  of  the  community  in  which  we 
live,  it  may  be  well  said  that  it  requires  a  bold  spirit 
to  advocate,  within  our  borders,  the  cause  of  literature. 
Degrading  to  the  land  as  the  imputation  is,  it  is  never 
theless  true.  The  man,  who  comes  out,  upon  any 
occasion,  from  the  engrossing  avocations  of  the  day,  to 
lift  a  voice  in  behalf  of  the  better  impulses  of  humanity  ; 
who  ventures,  amid  the  frog-like  croaking  of  the  great 
marsh  of  society,  above  the  buzz  of  the  cotton-gin,  the 
rattle  of  the  bacon- waggon,  and  all  the  sounds  of  the 
workshop,  the  hammer  and  the  yard-stick, — those 
Merlin  sceptres  of  modern  life, — to  raise  the  low,  sweet 
music  of  philosophy,  is  encountering  a  species  of 
voluntary  martyrdom  ;  is  exposing  himself  to  an  ex- 
perimentum  crucis,  as  stern  as  ever  brutalized  the 
streets  of  Avignon  or  Seville. 

And  yet  this  spirit  must  be  encountered.  Every 
man,  who  loves  his  country,  who  loves  his  common 
nature,  should  do  something  to  eradicate  this  curse  ; 
worse  than  the  curse  of  Adam,  if  not  the  full  develope- 
ment  of  that  curse  itself :  should  use  all  his  powers  to 
remove  this  foul  incubus  which  sits  upon  society,  like 
the  old  man  upon  the  shoulders  of  Sinbad,  stifling 
every  generous  impulse,  every  noble  effort,  and  forcing 
poor  man,  proud  man  still,  to  plod  through  the  ruts 
and  ravines  of  life,  as  little  conscious  of  the  God  within 
him,  as  the  rude  hut  of  the  patriarch  was  of  the  angel 
it  sheltered. 

As  the  potency  of  this  spirit  of  utilitarianism  is 
perhaps  greater  in  our  portion  of  the  Union  than  any 
other  :  as  it  here  darkens  and  destroys  many  of  the 


154  ORATIONS. 

better,  if  not  the  best,  capabilities  of  humanity  ;  it 
here  needs  the  most  powerful  resistance, — it  is  here 
that  the  strongest  effort  for  a  nobler  philosophy  should 
be  made.  What  subject  is  worthier  of  our  thinking 
men ;  of  our  patriots  ;  of  our  philanthropists  ?  There 
can  be  none  ;  for  it  includes  in  its  purview,  man's 
whole  social,  moral  and  intellectual  destiny. 

To  you,  Gentlemen, — a  Brotherhood  of  Scholars, — 
the  sunny  waters  of  whose  youthful  affections  are  yet 
undarkened  by  the  shadows  of  a  colder  creed, — this 
contemplation  is  particularly  appropriate.  You  are 
shortly,  from  these  ambrosial  arcades,  to  step  into  the 
world,  to  participate  in  its  practices  and  purposes,  to 
move  in  its  dusty  whirl ;  and  I  speak  but  the  voice  of 
many  a  man's  experience,  when  I  tell  you  that,  if  you 
yield  implicitly  to  its  requirements,  if  you  do  not,  like 
a  strong  swimmer,  stem  a  torrent's  progress,  it  will  be 
in  vain  that  you  have  outworn  long  years  of  scholastic 
toil;  that  you  have  bowed  with  a  deep  reverence  over  the 
curious  diagram  ;  that  you  have  garnered  instruction 
from  "  T  ully's  voice,  and  Virgil's  lay,  and  Livy's 
pictured  page  !"  Worse,  worse  than  wasted,  will  have 
been  your  time.  You  will  individually  become  one  of 
a  poor,  pitiful,  plodding  race, — I  speak  in  no  unkind 
spirit,  for  I  love  every  creature  that  partakes  of  the 
inheritance  of  our  first  Father, — who  go  through  life 
in  such  a  way  as  seemingly  to  sanction  the  bitter  sneer 
of  the  caustic  satirist,  that  the  whole  purpose  of 
man  is 

"  To  draw  nutrition,  propagate  and  rot!" 

Oh,  let   me,  my  friends,  beseech  you  to  resist  this 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  155 

Oircean  influence  !  Let  me,  upon  this  occasion  which 
you  have  so  generously  furnished  rne,  file  a  plea  in  be 
half  of  a  better  faith.  Let  me,  in  short,  point  out  the 
evils  of  this  gross  system  of  materialism,  of  JACK- 
CADEISM,*  as  it  should  be  called;  its  bliglitiug  opera 
tion  upon  the  noblest  interests  of  our  country ;  as  well 
as  attempt  to  exhibit  the  best  means  of  modifying,  if 
not  eradicating,  its  influence.  Those  means,  I  shall 
endeavor  to  show,  reside  in  a  proper  culture  of  the 
Imaginative  Faculty,  and  in  a  generous  encouragement 
of  its  visible  manifestations, — the  FINE  ARTS  :  to 
whose  moralizing  influence,  I  hold,  we  are  to  look  for 
all  our  better  hopes  of  intellectual  or  social  excellence. 
This  is  one  of  the  great  truths  of  history.  And  when 
men  forget  the  existence  of  any  important  truth,  or 
suffer  it  to  die  out  among  them,  they  are  forced,  by  a 
thousand  resulting  ills,  to  weep  heavily  over  its  tomb 
The  pernicious  influence  of  the  utiltarian  doctrines 
may  be  more  forcibly  illustrated  by  a  reference  to  the 
moral  condition  of  our  section  of  the  confederacy. 
There  has  been  little  variance  among  writers  in  de 
scribing  the  characteristics  of  our  population.  The 
whole  corporation  of  European  tourists, — from  De 
Tocqueville,  down,  down,  down  to  Captain  Marryatt, 

*-'Cade. — Let  me  alone: — Dost  thou  use  to  write  thy  namel  or  bast 
thou  a  mark  to  thyself,  like  an  honest  plain-dealing  man! 

Clerk. — Sir,  I  thank  God,  I  have  been  so  well  brought  up,  that  I 
can  write  my  name. 

All. — He  hath  confessed — away  with  him — he's  a  villian  and  a 
traitor. 

Cade. — Away  with  him,  I  say;  hang  him  with  his  pen  and  ink-horn 
about  his  neck." — Second  Part  of  King  Henry  VI. — Act  4,  Scene  2. 


156  ORATIONS. 

— that  Peter  Simple  on  shore, — disagreeing  in  many 
things,  have  all  concurred  in  their  portraitures  of  us. 
We  are  every  where  represented  to  be  lawless,  violent, 
irritable,  haughty,  vain,  unsocial,  quick  of  entrance  in 
a  quarrel,  reckless  of  life,  heedless  of  the  obligations 
of  religion.  A  few  of  the  ruder  virtues  are  allowed 
us  ;  but  they  are  such  only  as  appertain  to  a  semi- 
barbarous  state.  The  picture  is  undoubtedly  over- 
colored  ;  but  many  of  its  features  may  be  found. 
Where  did  you  ever  hear  of  a  country  in  which  there 
were  fewer  of  the  incentives  to  the  higher  virtues  ? 
A  man  must  be  honest,  brave,  industrious  ;  for  these 
qualities  are  necessary  in  his  trade  or  profession.  He 
can't  be  trusted  unless  he  is.  But  where  are  the 
motives  to  generosity,  to  benevolence,  to  charity,  to 
courtesy, — "  the  old  unbought  grace  of  life," — to  a 
refined  and  filial  patriotism  ?  These  certainly  form 
no  integral  part  of  our  social  economy.  They  are  all 
engulfed  in  the  tide  and  temper  of  traffic.  That 
spirit,  whose  approaches  Edmund  Burke  so  loftily 
lamented,  is  upon  us.  All  our  philosophers  teach  us 
to  regard  only  those  things  which  shall  increase  our 
store.  This  is  our  great  motive  principle.  Under  its 
influence  the  gentler  virtues  die.  Religion  herself — 
the  beautiful  embodiment  of  all  the  better  rules  of 
morals,  with  an  infusion  of  never-paling  divinity  ;  the 
sweet  monitress  that  teaches  us  how  much  of  heaven  a 
good  man  may  incarnate  in  himself, — is  set  aside  or 
adopted  as  convenience  dictates,  and  her  elevating 
precepts  fall  upon  the  hearts  of  men,  only  like  cold  and 
scattered  stars  through  the  gloom  of  a  northern  heaven  ! 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  157 

The  savans  of  our  land  have  attempted  to  correct 
these  evils  by  legislation.  That  is  beginning  at  the 
wrong  stage  of  the  disease.  They  train  up  a  child  in 
the  way  he  should  not  go  ;  and  then  they  punish  him 
for  following  the  bent  of  his  education.  You  may 
pile  law  upon  law  ;  adopt  penal  codes,  as  systematic 
as  the  Pandects  of  Justinian,,  or  as  tyrannical  as  the 
tablets  of  Draco  ;  and  yet  you  will  produce  little 
moral  reformation.  You  must  mind  the  seeds  of  the 
evil.  The  parable  of  the  Tares  is  no  unmoralized 
fable.  A  people,  to  become  refined,  must  have  some 
motive  else  than  to  grow  rich.  They  must  have  some 
other  catechism  than  Poor  Richard's  Almanac. 

We  are  usually  told  by  flippant  sciolists,  that  the 
way  to  correct  these  evils  is  by  education.  I  shall  not 
refute  the  assertion  ;  I  shall  not  so  sin  against  science. 
But  if  we  are  to  understand  by  "  education,"  that  spe 
cies  of  teaching  commonly  given  to  the  mass  of  our 
youth,  honesty  must  own  that  it  is  entirely  inade 
quate  to  such  an  end.  At  best,  it  is  but  a  brief  cul 
tivation  of  the  grosser  faculties  of  the  mind.  To 
moral  culture  it  has  no  relations.  The  feelings  of  the 
heart,  the  finer  fancies  of  the  intellect,  are  all  left 
dormant,  to  perish  in  their  sockets.  There  might  be 
a  nation  of  men  highly  educated  upon  the  utilitarian 
plan,  who  would  all  be  villains.  Frankenstein's  hero 
was  composed  of  parts,  each  one  perfect  in  itself,  and 
yet  their  combination  produced  a  demon.  There  was 
wanting  a  pervading  spirit,  a  genial  sympathy,  blending 
the  discordant  members  into  one  harmonious  whole. 
So  with  a  nation.  Unless  its  constituent  portions  aro 


158  ORATIONS. 

united  by  something  more  than  a  mere  insulated  excel 
lence  ;  unless  there  is  a  refined  fitness  for  each  other  ; 
a  going-out  of  each  in  love  and  generosity  through  the 
whole  ;  in  short,  unless  its  virtues  as  well  as  its  intel 
lect  be  cultivated ;  it  will  be  but  a  chaotic  mass  of  in 
coherent  materials  : 

•        "  Like  sweet  bells  jangled,  harsh  and  out  of  tune  !" 

This  is  the  great  secret  of  civilization  :  and  it  is 
against  this  principle  that  Jeremy  Bentham  and  his 
implicit  disciples  have  most  deeply  sinned.  Their  doc 
trine  not  only  blights  the  social  virtues,  by  failing  to 
cultivate  their  sources,  but  it  would  quench  every  exal 
ted  Literature.  Adopt  the  maxim,  that  we  are  to 
pursue  only  those  things  which  are  of  immediate  practi 
cal  value  ;  whose  utility  can  be  computed  by  arithme 
tic  ;  and  you  would  extinguish  the  main  glories  of  the 
world.  Where  would  go  the  storied  splendors  of  anti 
quity  ?  They  who  carved,  and  they  who  dug ;  the 
cyclops  in  his  smitlry,  and  the  tanner  at  his  vat ;  the 
utilitarians  of  Rome  ;  have  perished  entirely,  leaving 
no  epitaph  to  after  times  ;  and  yet  the  names  of  Cicero, 
and  Virgil,  and  Juvenal,  and  Terence — of  the  unpro 
ductive  classes — still  travel  with  the  stars  ;  moulding 
opinion  through  all  the  Subsequent.  These,  the  sage 
of  Queen-Square  Place  would,  with  one  of  his  solemn 
sneers,  extinguish  forever. 

The  evil  does  not  stop  here.  Its  barbarous  extent 
would  obliterate  every  nation's  proudest  inheritance  ; 
the  fame  of  her  scholars  and  literary  men.  Er.ase  from 
the  tablets  of  England's  history,  the  names  of  Bacon, 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  159 

Milton,  Shakespeare,  Spenser,  and  Byron  only,  and 
how  much  of  her  glory  would  you  extinguish  forever  ! 
What  would  be  the  barren  heath  and  winding  lochs 
beyond  the  Tweed,  without  the  moonlight  halo  that 
emanates  from  the  pages  of  Burns  and  Scott  ? — Eclipse 
the  fame  of  Dante,  Petrarch,  Tasso,  Alfieri,  and  Boc- 
cacce,  and  how  the  sky  of  Italy  would  be  darkened  ! 
Deprive  Portugal  of  her  Camoens  ;  Spain  of  her  Lope 
de  Vega,  her  Calderon,  and  Cervantes  ;  and  what  a 
pall  of  gloom  would  cover  the  Peninsula  !  What 
would  France  be  without  Corneille,  Kacine,  Rabelais, 
Montaigne,  Voltaire  and  De  Stael  ;  or  Germany  with 
out  Goethe,  Schiller,  Martin  Luther,  Herder,  Lessing 
and  Erasmus  ? 

These  illustrations  show  the  absurdity  of  the  doc 
trine,  as  well  as  its  pernicious  influence  upon  Letters. 
In  our  own  country,  it  has  had  a  repressing  influence  ; 
has  kept  down  everything  like  literary  elevation. 
There  have  been  occasional  efforts  to  develope  our  na 
tive  genius.  "  Prithee  Poins  !"  did  you  not  speak  of 
such  a  thing  as  Southern  Literature  ?  Like  the  sound 
ing  of  a  bell  in  a  vast  wilderness,  we  have  heard  the 
faint  chimes  of  a  scattered  few,  who  would  awaken  us 
to  an  elevated  devotion.  They  have  been  the  neglec 
ted  prophets  and  apostles  of  an  impracticable  creed. 
The  Jack-Cadeism  of  the  day  has  quenched  their  vestal 
fires.  "  Hang  him  with  his  pen  and  ink-horn  about 
his  neck,"  has  been  the  constant  verdict  of  our  back 
woods'  juries.  Southern  Literature  indeed  !  Lucus 
a  non  lucendo  !  Throughout  this  broad,  green,  beau 
tiful  land  of  ours,  as  it  is  sometime  rapturously  called  ; 


160  ORATIONS. 

from  Mason  and  Dixon's,  to  Hunt  and  Carroll's  line  ; 
there  is  not  one  native  author  ;  exclusively  an  author  ! 
Yes,  there  is  one  :  one  of  whom  we  may  be  justly 
proud.  Solitary  and  alone,  in  this  barren  Patmos,  he 
has  been  struggling  for  years,  to  develope  and  illustrate 
an  indigenous  literature.  And  well,  though  perhaps 
unrewarded, — certainly  unrewarded  by  those  for  whom 
be  has  done  the  most, — has  he  accomplished  his  exal 
ted  mission.  His  numerous  productions  have  arisen 
like  a  line  of  beautiful  hills  around  the  literary  hori- 
son  of  his  country.  Could  my  voice  reach  him  in  his 
far  home,  amid  the  palmetto  groves  of  Carolina,  I 
would  bid  him — God  speed  !  in  his  proud  vocation.  I 
would  tell  him  that  he  is  a  worthy  herald  of  the  noblest 
faith  save  one, — a  sister  spirit — that  has  ever  brightened 
our  common  nature.  Though  his  immediate  coun 
trymen  may  not  appreciate  his  eiforts ;  though,  like 
Dante,  he  may  struggle  in  darkness  ;  I  would  tell  him 
to  remember  Dante's  prophecy  ;  remember  its  fulfill 
ment  !  The  time  will  come  when  the  brow  of  the 
author  of  "  Atalantis"  and  the  "  Yemassee,"  of  "  Melli- 
champe"  and  the  "History  of  South  Carolina"  shall  be 
crowned  with  the  green  garlands  of  unforgetting  love  ! 
It  is  in  the  history  of  our  Periodical  Literature  that 
the  influence  of  this  iconoclastic  spirit  is  most  manifest. 
Many  efforts  have  been  made  to  establish  among,  us 
the  higher  class  of  periodicals.  They  have  all  been 
ineffectual.  The  truth  has  been  fully  proven  that  our 
people  do  not  want, — that  they  are  positively  unfit  for, 
such  intellectual  establishments.  How  sad  is  the  his 
tory  of  the  SOUTHERN  REVIEW  !  For  profound  learn- 


JACK-CADEISM   AND   THE    FINE    ARTS.  161 

ing,  elegant  scholarship,  lofty  and  generous  criticism 
modelled  upon  the  purest  standards  of  taste  and  phil 
osophy  ;  it  was  but  little,  if  at  all,  inferior  to  the 
great  Coryphreus,  the  Edinburgh  itself.  Its  pages 
were  regularly  adorned  by  the  most  finished  produc 
tions  of  such  minds  as  Legare,  Cooper,  Grimke,  Elliott, 
Harper,  Drayton,  Hayne,  Nott,  and  England.  Fear 
lessly,  eloquently,  it  defended  our  peculiar  social  econ 
omy,  and  better  constitutional  creed  ;  wreathing  at  the 
same  time,  the  graces  of  literature,  like  the  myrtle  of 
Harmodius,  around  the  ruder  implements  of  attack  and 
defence.  And  yet, — though  many  of  its  articles  were 
regularly  translated  into  other  languages,  and  read 
with  rapture  by  the  illurninati  of  the  Continent, — it 
was  permitted,  by  our  all-patriotic  population,  to  die 
by  that  most  painful  of  all  the  processes  of  decomposi 
tion — starvation.  Ah  !  how  far  below  zero,  our  intel 
lectual  thermometer  sank,  the  day  those  funeral  obse- 
qiiies  were  performed  ! 

That  such  has  been  the  result  of  all  our  attempts 
at  literature  is  not  strange.  Our  scholars,  like  our 
legislators,  have  begun  in  the  wrong  way.  The  minds, 
the  feelings  of  the  people  must  first  be  accommodated 
by  a  proper  culture,  before  they  will  yield  to  the  dy 
nasty  of  either.  That  culture,  we  repeat,  does  not 
consist  in  the  development  of  the  grosser  faculties  of 
the  mind  alone.  There  are  other  and  higher  attrib 
utes  of  the  intellect.  Man  is  not  a  mere  Babbage's 
Calculating  Machine.  He  has  sentiments,  feelings, 
emotions  ;  a  love  of  the  beautiful,  the  true,  the  sub 
lime  ;  a  yearning  for  immortality,  an  impulse  to  the 


162  ORATIONS. 

perfect.  These, — the  divine  part  of  his  nature  ;  the 
attributes  of  the  unperishing  essence,  his  soul, — the 
German  metaphysicians  have  denominated  The  Ideal. 
Our  writers,  pursuing  a  less  exact  phraseology,  have 
classed  them  as  constituents  or  objects  of  a  more  fa 
miliar  term,  the  Imagination.  Either  phrase,  if  rightly 
understood,  will  answer  our  purpose  ;  and  it  is  in  the 
cultivation  of  this  faculty,  in  its  most  extended  sense, 
that  we  shall  insist,  reside  the  only  remedy  for  the 
evils  of  which  we  have  spoken  ;  the  only  antagonist 
principle  to  the  horrors  of  utilitarianism  ;  the  only 
hope  of  social  regeneration.  For, — to  use  the  thought 
of  Frederick  Von  Schlegel,  in  his  admirable  "  Philoso 
phy  of  History,"''" — "there  can  be  no  comprehensive 
culture  of  the  human  mind, — no  high  and  harmonious 
development  of  its  powers,  and  the  various  faculties 
of  the  soul  ;  unless  all  those  deep  feelings  of  life, — 
that  mighty  productive  energy  of  human  nature,  the 
marvelous  imagination,  be  awakened  and  excited,  and 
by  that  excitement  and  exertion,  attain  an  expansive, 
noble  and  beautiful  form.  Were  the  mental  culture 
of  any  people  founded  solely  on  a  dead,  cold,  abstract 
science,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  poetry,  in  action  or 
thought;  such  a  mere  mathematical  people,  with 
minds  thus  sharpened  and  pointed  by  mathematical 
discipline,  would  never  possess  a  rich  and  various  in 
tellectual  existence  ;  nor  even  probably  attain  to  a 
living  science,  or  a  true  science  of  life." 

"Under  the  influence  of  the  popular  philosophy,  men 

*  Vol.  1,  p.  305. 


JACK-CADEISM   AND   THE    FINE   ARTS.  163 

have  come  to  greatly  mis-appreciate,  if  not  wholly  to 
misunderstand,  the  character  and  functions  of  the 
imagination.  It  is  regarded,  at  its  best,  but  as  a  gen 
erous  weakness  of  the  mind  ;  an  intoxicating  mental 
champagne,  generating  vapors  and  phantasms  in  the 
brain,  fit  only  for  the  amusement  of  children,  or  the 
idle  gratulation  of  some  love-sick  girl.  How  false  is 
the  notion  !  What  injustice  is  done  to  the  great  mo 
tive  principle  of  all  moral  or  intellectual  excellence  ! 

The  human  mind  may  be  briefly  divided  into  two 
grand  departments  :  the  Actual  and  the  Ideal.  The 
first  regards  things, — the  plainer  things  of  life, — only 
as  they  have  been  or  are.  Its  speculations  extend 
thus  far,  and  no  farther.  The  last  prompts  to  every 
new  and  high  enterprize  ;  to  every  improvement  or 
discovery  in  art,  science  or  feeling  ;  to  every  reforma 
tion  or  regeneration  ;  to  every  thing  "  not  of  the  earth, 
earthy  •"  to  every  revelation  of  the  hidden  or  future  ; 
to  every  effort  or  aspiration  for  the  true,  the  beautiful, 
the  immortal  !  This  is  the  imagination,  and  these 
are  its  offices.  It  urged  "the  world's  grey  fathers"  to 
all  their  efforts  for  civilization  and  refinement.  It  led 
them  up  to  the  summits  of  their  rugged  mountains, 
and  pointed  them  to  the  far-smiling  Palestines,  beck 
oning  to  perfection.  It  prompted  the  bare-footed 
Egyptian  to  the  invention  of  symbols  for  thought,  and 
taught  the  Asiatic  sheep-tender  "  to  unwind  the  eter 
nal  dances  of  the  sky/'  Socrates,  when  he  mused  at 
the  Bonquet  of  Plato  ;  Gallileo,  before  and  after  he 
recanted  at  the  Inquisition  ;  Columbus,  as  he  floated 
in  his  polacre,  in  the  bay  of  Genoa,  dreaming  of  a 


164  ORATIONS. 

means  of  realising  the  fiery  Macedonian's  last  ambi 
tion  ;  all  felt  its  divine  impulse.  Leibnitz  tells  us 
that  all  his  philosophy  resulted  from  his  Ideality  ;  and 
the  apple-watching  Newton  caught  the  secret  of  his 
greatness  from  his  imagination.  It  is,  in  short,  an 
attribute  without  which  perception  is  dull,  memory 
weak,  and  judgment  inactive. 

But  we  do  not  propose  a  dissertation  upon  all  the 
offices  of  this  faculty.  Adclison,  in  his  finished  prose, 
and  his  imitator  Akenside,  in  his  finely  modulated 
verse,  have  adequately  painted  its  pleasures.  Our 
purpose  is  to  show  that  its  development,  and  culture 
should  be -more  attended  to  in  every  system  of  educa 
tion  ;  that  this  is  peculiarly  essential  under  our  frame 
of  government, — this  "  fierce  democracle  ;" — and  that 
no  people  ever  reached  a  refined  social  position  with 
out  a  cultivation  of  the  faculty  itself,  and  particularly 
of  its  external  manifestations  :  the  Fine  Arts. 

It  is  in  these -manifestations,  that  this  imperial  fac 
ulty,  which  dwells  in  the  recesses  of  the  bosom,  like  a 
hermit  in  a  cave,  has  accomplished  its  triumphs. 
The  Fine  Arts  have,  in  all  ages,  been  the  main  civil- 
izers  and  refiners  of  man.  Before  letters  were  in- 
.  vented,  Poetry  trembled  from  the  lips  of  the  wander 
ing  bard,  sanctifying  the  rude  heart  of  the  attracted 
barbarian  :  Music,  as  in  the  metaphoric  story  of  Or 
pheus,  calmed  the  bestial  passions  and  roused  the 
timid  virtues  into  play  :  Painting  caught  the  fleeting 
vision,  and  hung  her  miracles  upon  the  walls  which 
Architecture  and  Sculpture  had  adorned.  These, — 
the  arts,  which  that  beautiful  poetry  of  religion,  the 


JACK-CADEISM    AND   THE    FINE   ARTS.  165 

early  Greek  mythology,  embodied  in  the  forms  of  the 
Muses,  as  a  part  of  its  faith, — the  unphilosophical 
have  usually  regarded  as  the  effect,  and  no  part  of  the 
cause,  of  civilized  refinement.  I  have  looked  at  the 
chronicles  of  the  past,  with  an  erring  eye,  if  this  be  so. 
True,  we  usually  find  the  Arts  in  their  most  palmy 
prosperity  in  periods  of  the  greatest  social  splendor. 
But  they  had  originated  long  before.  They  were  but 
glowing  in  the  sunshine  of  that  day  whose  meridian, 
— whose  long  unstooping,  Joshua-like  meridian, — they 
had  accelerated. 

Every  era  of  great  excellence  will  be  found  to  have 
been  preceded  by  the  enlarged  development  of  one  or 
more  of  the  Fine  Arts.  Homer,  whoever  he  was, — 
"  whether,"  as  Dr.  Parr  says,  "  he  was  Homer  or  some 
body  else," — flourished  long  before  the  sabbath  of  Gre 
cian  glory.  He  sang  his  martial  stanzas  in  a  rude  and 
unlettered  country.  They,  who  heard  his  metrical 
chant,  at  first  paused  from  curiosity  to  listen  to  the 
ravings  of  the  blind  old  Sciote.  The  boys  hoot :  the 
maidens  titter :  the  utilitarians  of  that  clay,  the 
bullock-driver  and  the  pulse-gatherer,—  where  are  they 
now  ? — sneer.  But  he  strikes  up  a  bolder  and  a  wilder 
strain.  He  tells  of  Hector's  bravery,  of  Helen's  beauty, 
of  Priam's  woes. — Their  hearts  become  entangled  in 
the  song.  Now  a  strain  of  fervid  patriotism  ;  now  a 
gush  of  genial  sympathy,  of  generous  pity,  of  expanded 
benevolence  ;  now  a  burst  of  fiery  indignation  at 
unholy  wrong,  at  sacrilege,  at  fraud,  at  cowardice,  at 
tyranny, — roll  upon  the  mild  air  of  that  JEgean  even 
ing.  Like  Roderick  Dhu  before  the  highland  harper, 


166  ORATIONS. 

their  hearts  have  sympathized  in  every  note  of  the 
blind,  old  poet.  Thmk  you  that  they  did  not  lie  down 
that  night  in  their  wretched  hovels,  better  and  braver 
and  more  generous  and  patriotic  than  they  had  been  ? 
Models  of  excellence, — ideal  it  is  true  but  not  unat 
tainable, — were  swimming  in  their  hearts,  were  pic 
tured  before  their  imaginations,  which  in  long  days 
after,  when  old  Melesigines  had  passed  away,  had  a 
moulding  and  glorious  influence,  had  their  full  revel 
ation  in  the  age  of  Pericles  ! 

This  is  undoubtedly,  when  taken  in  connection  with 
the  sister  arts, — the  paintings  of  Zeuxis,  the  sculp 
tures  of  Phidias,  and  the  friezes  of  Apollodorus, — the 
philosophy  of  Grecian  history. 

Other  eras  exemplify  the  same  truth.  It  is  some 
what  singular  that  the  greatest  poet  of  modern  times 
arose  in  the  darkest  hour  of  the  world.  And  what  an 
upward  impulse  did  he  give  to  man  !  In  that  long 
night  of  ages,— the  ten  centuries  of  degradation, — 
when  humanity  "  had  lost  all  her  original  brightness/' 
what  hope  was  there  for  the  world  ?  The  gorgeous 
crests  of  Roman  and  Grecian  glory  had,  like  the  hosts 
of  Pharaoh,  been  whelmed  completely  from  the  sight : 
and  no  Miriam  struck  her  harp  of  triumph. and  prom 
ise  above  the  cold,  Lethean  waters.  From  the  holder 
of  the  keys  of  St.  Peter  to  the  beggar  in  the  lazaretto, 
all  was  squalid  ignorance,  sensuality  and  crime.  At 
this  dejected  moment,  a  faint  sound,  like  a  ringing 
cymbal,  is  heard  in  the  West.  Nearer  it  comes,  until 
it  swells  into  a  hymn  of  indignation  and  triumph  !  It 
speaks  of  hope  and  redemption  to  man.  It  lashes  vice 


JACK-CADEISM   AND   THE   FINE   ARTS.  167 

in  her  high  places.  Tyranny  and  b%otry  tremble  at 
the  omen.  The  clouds  break  away  ;  and  a  faint  dawn 
for  humanity  is  seen  in  the  east.  Need  it  be  said 
that  that  song  was  the  Divina  Conirnedia ;  that  that 
poet  was  Dante  ? 

This  is  the  origin  of  the  Revival  of  Letters.  The 
poet  gave  an  impulse  to  the  painter,  to  the  statutary, 
to  the  architect.  The  Fine  Arts  began  to  revive  ; 
and,  from  the  course  they  took,  the  Reformation — so 
essential  to  clear  away  the  last  shadows  of  the  ages  of 
delusion, — was  brought  about.  There  can  be  little 
doubt, — though  it  has  seldom  been  awarded  him, — 
that  Dante  did  as  much  to  reform  the  abuses  of  the 
Romish  church,  as  Martin  Luther.  He  depicted,  in  a 
language  never  equalled  for  music  and  persuasion,  all 
the  long-accumulated  evils  of  the  Papal  hierarchy. 
With  a  boldness  unsurpassed  even  by  his  own  heroes, 
he  rent  the  veil  of  the  unhallowed  temple.  Neither 
the  cap  of  the  pontiff,  nor  the  horned  bonnet  of  the 
bishop,  was  free  from  the  sarcasm  of  his  verse.  With 
a  well-becoming  joy,  he  dared  to  consign  several  of  the 
boasted  Vice-regents  of  Jesus  themselves,  for  their 
unnatural  crimes,  their  open  infidelity,  to  the  tortures 
of  his  Inferno!  Nor  was  it  upon  Religion  alone,  but 
upon  Liberty  and  Literature,  that  he  had  an  awaken 
ing  influence.  "  He  was  the  congregator  of  those  great 
spirits  that  presided  over  the  resurrection  of  learning  ; 
the  Lucifer  of  that  starry  flock  which,  in  the  thirteenth 
century,  shone  forth  from  republican  Italy,  as  from  a 
heaven,  into  the  darkness  of  the  benighted  world  !"* 

*  Shelley's  "  Defence  of  Poetry,"  p.  51. 


168  ORATIONS. 

Nor  are  these  triumphs  confined  to  Poetry.  The 
other  Arts  have,  in  many  instances,  had  as  manifest 
an  influence  for  good.  Who  can  doubt  that  much  oi 
the  mystic  literature  of  Egypt ;  much  of  the  peculiar, 
refined  character  of  her  people  ;  much  of  her  social 
and  political  economy,  was  derived  from  the  influence 
of  her  strange  and  gigantic  architecture,  her  wild  but 
polished  sculpture,  and  her  finished  painting  ;  so  early 
established  and  patronized  by  her  kings  ?  The  fabled 
harp  of  Memnon  was  but  an  emblem  of  the  exquisite 
music,  which  the  constellated  arts  daily  infused,  like 
a  gift  of  sunshine,  into  the  hearts  of  the  people. 

The  most  notable  instance,  history  furnishes,  of  so 
cial,  political  and  intellectual  superiority,  is  in  the 
Democracy  of  Athens.  There  never  was  an  instance 
of  such  thorough  and  diffused  refinement.  Destitute 
of  the  beneficence  of  nature,  she  had  made  art  supply 
the  deficiency.  That  statesman,  who  could  make  a 
modern  state  equal  to  hers  in  every  excellence,  would 
possess  a  cunning  superior  to  Macchiavel  or  Metter- 
nich.  And  yet,  what  seems  to  have  been  the  secret  of 
her  excellence  ?  Will  it  not,  upon  a  philosophic  view, 
— not  such  a  coup  d'ceil  as  that  intense  sensualist,  Bul- 
wer,  has  taken, — appear  to  have  resulted  from  the  en 
couragement  given  to  the  Imaginative  Arts  ?  Mod 
ern  commonwealths  far  transcend  her  in  all  the  exact 
sciences,  in  a  control  over  the  energies  of  nature. 
They  have,  in  the  cant  phrase  of  Brougham,  the 
schoolmaster  abroad  in  the  land  :  but  is  it  not  to  be 
feared  that  his  teachings  are  more  like  those  of  Teddy 
O'Kourke,  the  Irish  tutor, — wild  lessons  of  blundering 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  169 

and  folly — than  the  training  and  perfection  of  the 
moral  man  ?  Say  what  we  will,  the  barren  little  pen 
insula,  between  mount  Cithasron  and  cape  Suniurn, — 
with  her  violet  crowned  city, — far  excelled  any  modern 
state  in  her  whole  social  and  educational  polity.  Let 
us,  for  the  sake  of  illustration,  transport  ourselves  in 
fancy,  like  the  Abbe  Barthelemi,  to  her  territory,  in 
the  time  of  her  power  and  glory. 

We  are  entering  the  gates  of  Athens.  Down  the 
broad  street,  that  opens  before  us,  a  crowd  is  collected 
around  the  portico  of  a  temple.  Let  us  approach. — 
They  are  gazing  with  delight  upon  an  architect  who 
is  erecting  the  statue  of  a  divinity.  As  the  beautiful 
form  displays  itself  against  the  sky,  they  shout  the 
name  of  Praxitiles.  We  wander  on  by  graceful  tem 
ples  and  elegant  dwellings,  beneath  whose  colonnades, 
priest,  and  poet,  and  philosopher,  and  artist,  and  ora 
tor,  and  rhapsodist  are  mingled  in  indiscriminate  con 
versation.  In  a  little  while  we  enter  a  spacious  grove. 
How  tastefully  adorned  !  Gay  crowds  are  wandering 
through  its  shady  walks.  Now  they  collect  in  the 
centre  ;  and  Plato  arises  to  speak  of  the  immortality 
of  the  soul.  Among  the  audience  you  see  many  who 
are  distinguished.  That  small,  old  man,  with  the 
long  beard,  dressed  much  in  the  style  of  a  Carmelite 
friar  of  the  present  day,  is  Diogenes.  Yonder  meagre, 
lank  young  man,  with  the  red  eyes,  is  Aristotle,  the 
Stagyrite.  That  pale,  delicate,  scholarly-looking  youth, 
who  so  continually  shrugs  his  shoulders,  like  a  French 
man,  is  Demosthenes.  Others  of  no  less  reputation 
are  around.  From  the  Academy,  we  proceed  to  the 


170  ORATIONS. 

Lyceum.  What  a  profusion  of  matchless  paintings 
and  sculptures  deck  its  walls.  Pericles  is  illustrating 
the  powers  of  eloquence,  and  propounding  the  laws. 
Thence  we  seek  the  Theatre.  First  a  tragedy  of 
JEschylus,  and  then  a  comedy  of  Aristophanes  :  each, 
unlike  our  modern  dramas,  illustrating  some  important 
moral  truth.  Now  for  the  house  of  Aspasia.  She 
gives  to-night,  one  of  her  ambrosial  feasts.  The  col 
lection  of  philosophy  and  wit  would  make  Madame 
Kecamier,  or  the  Countess  of  Blessing  ton,  die  of  envy. 

Such  is  a  day  in  Athens  !  *  Such  were  all  her  days ! 
Can  any  modern  university  boast  so  excellent  a  system 
of  education  ?  What  wonder  that  her  citizens  were 
the  most  refined  population  on  earth  ! 

But  we  need  not  resort  to  these  pictures  of  the  past 
to  illustrate  the  esthetic  influence  of  the  arts.  What 
Athens  was,  Eome,  from  the  same  cause,  in  a  later 
day  became.  The  rude  passions  of  her  populace  were 
humanized  and  refined  by  the  presence  of  the  Muses. 
The  habitual  contemplation  of  the  beautiful  tends  to 
soften  the  asperities  of  the  heart ;  and  make  its  stony 
places  gush  with  the  waters  of  charity  and  love..  This 
is  the  Philosophy  of  the  Imagination.  Its  beautiful 
revelations,  whether  in  verse  or  stone,  upon  parchment 
or  canvas,  have  ever  been  the  most  eloquent  preach 
ers  of  morality.  They  are  so  from  their  nature.  Di 
recting  all  their  radiance  to  the  heart,  they  awaken 
its  holiest  sympathies.  They  rouse  the  passion  for 


*  Macaulay,  in  one  of  his  essays,  has  a  similar  scene. 


JACK-CADEISM   AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  171 

the  pure,  for  perfection.  No  man,  with  such  gentle 
minis trants  of  good,  such  graceful  persuasives  to  re 
finement,  could  be  content  to  live  and  die  as  though 
he  had  no  soul. 

In  a  survey  of  the  Fine  Arts,  it  would  not  do,  to 
pass  unnoticed  the  epoch  of  their  greatest  modern 
perfection.  As  has  been  said,  Dante  was  the  prime 
reviver  of  the  Imaginative  Arts.  He  was  soon  follow 
ed  by  many  worthy  disciples.  Petrarch  and  Boccacce, 
in  the  flowery  wilderness  of  song ;  Michael  Angelo, 
and  Raphael,  and  a  host  of  others,  — whose  footsteps 
are  yet  beautiful  upon  the  mountain  tops  of  history, — 
in  painting,  and  sculpture,  and  architecture, — enriched 
Italy  with  the  proudest  wonders  of  art ;  and  elevated 
her  to  a  lofty  position  in  the  university  of  nations. 
This  made  her  capitols  "  the  cities  of  the  soul/'  and 
drew  the  pilgrims  of  every  literature,  of  every  art, 
from  Shelley  to  Thorwalsdeu,  to  drink  at  her  immortal 
fountains.  We  cannot  linger  over  her  teeming  history. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  brilliantly  illuminated  pages  in 
the  chronicles  of  man.  There  the  plastic  arts  exem 
plified  their  influence  in  the  conversion  of  a  barbarous 
people  into  a  refined,  intellectual  community  ;  and 
left  a  lesson  for  all  the  succeeding.  But  to  nations, 
as  that  solemn  plagiarist,  Coleridge,  has  said  of  indi- 
vidualsj  "  experience  is  like  the  stern  lights  of  a  ship, 
illuminating  only  the  track  over  which  they  have 
passed."  Few  modern  statesmen  have  treasured  the 
instruction.  Napoleon,  who,  if  he  had  not  been  Eu 
rope's  mightiest  conqueror,  would  perhaps  have  been 
her  first  philosopher,  did  not  overlook  the  lesson. 


172  ORATIONS. 

When  he  had  erected  the  architrave  of  his  stupen 
dous  power,  he  saw  that  one  thing  was  wanting  to 
adorn,  to  endear,  the  edifice.  Under  the  guidance  of 
Canova,  he  struck  upon  the  right  secret.  He  at 
tempted  to  fill  the  Louvre  with  the  treasures  of 
Italy. — But  alas  !  the  pedestals  of  his  power  were  too 
slippery  with  blood  ;  and  he  only  left  the  collections 
of  his  genius  to  brighten  and  beautify  the  reigns  of  the 
stolid  Bourbons.  And  what  an  influence  must  they 
have  had  upon  the  mind,  and,  that  most  social  of  all 
its  manifestations,  the  manners,  of  the  French  people  ! 
The  most  imaginative  of  English-essay  winters, 
William  Hazlitt,  has  finely  described  the  effect  that 
the  reccollections  of  the  Louvre  had  upon  him. 
"Wherever  I  was/'  says  he,  "they  were  with  me, 
above  me,  and  about  me,  and  hung  upon  the  beatings 
of  my  heart,  a  vision  and  a  joy  unutterable.  There 
was  one  chamber  of  the  brain,  at  least,  which  I  had 
only  to  unlock  and  be  master  of  boundless  wealth, — 
a  treasure-house  of  pure  thoughts  and  cherished  recol 
lections.  Tyranny  could  not  master,  barbarism  slunk 
from  it ;  vice  could  not  pollute ;  folly  could  not  gain 
say  it.  I  had  but  to  touch  a  certain  spring,  and  lo  ! 
on  the  walls,  the  divine  grace  of  Guido  appeared  free 
from  blemish, — there  were  the  golden  hues  of  Titian, 
and  Raphael's  speaking  faces,  the  splendor  of  Rubens, 
the  gorgeous  gloom  of  Rembrandt,  the  airy  elegance  of 
Van  Dyke,  and  Claude's  classic  scenes  lapped  the 
senses  in  Elysium,  and  Poussin  breathed  the  spirit  of 
antiquity  over  them.  There,  in  that  fine  old  lumber- 
room  of  the  imagination,  were  the  Transfiguration, 


JACK-CADEISM   AND   THE   FINE   ARTS.  173 

and  the  St.  Peter  Martyr,  with  its  majestic  figures, 
and  its  unrivalled  landscape  back-ground.  There 
were  also  the  two  St.  Jeromes, — Dornenichino's  and 
Correggio's, — there  stood  "  the  statue  that  enchants 
the  world/' — there  were  the  Apollo,  and  the  Antinous, 
the  Laocoon,  the  Dying  Gladiator,  Diana  and  her 
Fawn,  and  all  the  glories  of  the  antique  world."* 

What  finer  school  for  moral  refinement  or  classical 
instruction  could  exist,  than  the  opened  doors  of  the 
Louvre  ? 

Among  the  Moderns,  there  is  one  nation  at  least 
that  has  been  philosophical  in  her  social  structure. 
We  usually  regard  the  Germans  as  a  dull  and  phlegm 
atic  race  ;  yet,  in  the  true  science  of  life,  they  are 
far  our  superiors.  In  domestic  polity  they  have  few 
equals.  Although,  through  a  disregard  of  the  maxims 
of  Malthus,  they  have  an  over-teeming  population, 
yet,  unlike  the  Irish,  they  are  not  in  a  constant  state 
of  fermentation  ;  the  lowest  dregs  of  society  welling 
up,  and  muddying  the  whole  social  system.  Their 
youth  are  early  fashioned  into  virtue  by  the  influence 
of  imaginative  culture.  Music  and  poetry  are  made 
a  part  of  their  common  school  education.  You  cannot 
travel  through  a  town  in  Hesse  Darmstadt  or  the  Cir 
cle  of  Meissen,  without  hearing  the  pleased  tinkling 
of  the  laborer's  guitar,  as  he  pauses  from  his  toil  at  the 
evening  twilight ;  or  the  sweet  song  of  the  maiden,  as 
she  blends  the  mild  religious  melodies  of  Klopstock  or 
Burger  with  the  busy  humming  of  her  wheel.  What 

*  "  Tour  through  France  and  Italy."     Chap.  4. 


174  ORATIONS. 

a  transcendant  social  fabric  !  What  wonder  that  they 
have  the  richest,  most  varied  and  humanizing  literature 
now  known !  What  wonder  that  the  heart  of  the 
German  emigrant,  amid  our  western  wilderness,  oft 
sighs,  with  child-like  tenderness,  for  the  joys  of  Fa- 
derland ! 

The  instance  of  our  great  maternal  progenitor  is 
frequently  pointed  to,  by  the  advocates  of  the  ultili- 
tarian  philosophy,  in  illustration  of  their  creed.  Great 
Britain  is  proudly  called  the  mightiest  demonstration 
of  political  and  commercial  power  that  the  world  has 
ever  seen.  This  is  perhaps  true  ;  and  this,  to  a  great 
extent,  may  be  traced  to  the  culture  of  the  mechanical 
sciences.  But  is  this  all  ?  Have  no  other  ingredients 
entered  into  the  composition  of  her  social  and  moral 
condition  ?  Are  the  peasants  of  Cumberland,  or  the 
merchants  of  Threadneedle  street,  better  citizens,  bet 
ter  men,  more  patriotic,  more  liberal,  more  devoted  to 
the  domestic  virtues,  because,  as  Croly  has  proudly 
boasted,  "  the  sun  never  sets  upon  the  British  domin 
ions,"  or  that  the  Cross  of  St.  George  has  floated  in 
triumph  in  the  bay  of  Canton,  or  the  steamships  made 
a  great  turnpike  of  the  Atlantic  ?  No  !  For  the  se 
crets  of  England's  happiness,  you  must  look  to  other 
sources.  The  myriad-minded  Shakspeare,  the  gentle 
Spenser,  the  mighty  Milton,  the  benevolent  Words 
worth,  Lawrence,  Keynolds,  Hogarth,  Chantrey,  and 
West,  have  done  more  for  human  happiness  and  virtue, 
for  fireside  comfort  and  purity,  for  patriotism  and  phi 
lanthropy,  than  all  the  inventions  of  Arkwright,  or  Bol- 
ton,  or  Watt,  or  Bentley.  The  sources  of  moral  puri- 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  175 

fication  arc  most  usually  silent  and  imperceptible  in 
their  operation.  Like  the  sunshine,  they  give  fragrance, 
beauty  to  the  flower  ;  sparkle,  freshness  to  the  foun 
tain  ;  music,  blandness  to  the  breeze ;  health,  bloom 
to  the  cheek  ;  and  yet  the  whole  process  goes  on  with 
the  calmness  and  silence  of  the  old,  mysterious  bounty. 
There  is  no  creaking  of  the  axle  ;  no  stirring  of  the 
dust !  Thus,  for  ages,  have  the  benefactions  of  the 
arts  been  poured,  like  a  river,  upon  the  descendants  of 
the  old  Saxon  stock, — the  inheritors  of  Kollo's  Scan 
dinavian  blood.  Who  can  tell  the  influence  that  the 
architecture  of  their  old  Gothic  cathedrals,  standing 
all  over  the  island,  living  proofs  of  the  antiquity,  if  not 
the  authenticity,  of  their' faith,  has  exerted,  for  ages, 
upon  the  religious  character  of  the  English  people, 
from  peer  to  peasant  ?  Has  not  Westminster  Abbey, 
— that  magnificent  repository  of  the  illustrious  dead, 
and  of  glorious  historic  recollections,  from  the  banners 
of  the  Armada  to  the  Round  Table  of  Alfred, — with 
its  high  and  sculptured  arches,  its  almost  speaking 
statuary, — fashioned  much  of  the  manners  and  litera 
ture  of  the  white-cliffed  isle  ?  What  impulses  to  pa 
triotism  and  patriotic  valor  !  He,  who  can  overlook 
these  things  in  an  estimate  of  the  seminal  principles  of 
national  character,  must  be  blinder  than  the  blind  old 
king  of  Corinth. 

These  glimpses  at  other  nations  will  verify  the  posi 
tion  that  no  people  have  ever  attained  an  exalted 
character  in  literature  or  ethics,  who  have  neglected 
the  Fine  Arts.  Then, — to  apply  the  lesson  to  our  own 
country,  — should  not  greater  devotion  be  paid  to  their 


176  ORATIONS. 

encouragement  among  ourselves  ?  Are  we  not  sadly 
deficient  in  every  thing  like  objects  of  taste  or  imagi 
nation  ?  It  has  been  said  by  a  subtle  sophist  that 
these  arts  cannot  flourish  in  a  democratic  government : 
that  they  are  ungenial  to  its  very  nature.  This,  if 
true,  would  be,  as  it  was  intended  to  be,  one  of  the 
strongest  arguments  against  Kepublicanism.  It  would 
prove  that  there  could  be  no  refinement  in  a  republic. 
But  all  history  contradicts  Montesquieu.  It  is  pre 
cisely  in  such  a  government  as  ours  that  the  influence 
of  the  Muses  is  wanted  to  complete  the  system  of  social 
balances.  A  people  to  rule  themselves  must  be  virtuous 
and  refined.  They  must  have  a  taste  for  the  graces  and 
beatitudes  of  being.  Their*  selfish  propensities, — the 
primitive  barbarism, — must  be  checked  and  removed. 
"  The  decent  drapery  of  lifeJi  must  be  thrown  over  the 
deformities  of  nature.  Loveliness  must  be  made  an 
attribute  of  their  country,  before  they  can  love  her  like 
a  mother.  This  is  the  moral  which  we,  as  a  nation, 
have  to  learn. 

But, — to  confine  our  speculations  to  the  section  of 
the  republic,  in  which  we  live, — how  vast  would  be  the 
benefit  of  the  Fine  Arts  to  the  Southwest  !  We 
have  seen  that  there  is  much  in  our  situation  to  be 
deplored.  The  vices  that  mark  us,  are  precisely  such 
as  would  be  removed  by  imaginative  culture.  An  in 
fusion  of  the  atmosphere  of  Attica  into  our  Southern 
breezes  would  regenerate  the  clime.  Our  people  would 
no  more  degrade  themselves  by  organized  violations  of 
law,  or  be  lashed  into  tempest  by  the  miserable  passions 
of  the  hustings.  The  cunning  aphorism  of  Fletcher  of 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  177 

Saltoun, — "let  ine  make  the  songs  of  a  people,  and 
you  may  make  their  laws/'  has  recently  been  tested  in 
our  land. — Let  those  songs  be  the  pure  breathings  of 
the  vestal  muse,  and  the  great  heart  of  the  country 
would  pulsate  with  virtue.  If  our  public  buildings 
were  decorated  with  tasteful  creations  of  art ;  with 
noble  pictures,  breathing  grand  historic  recollections  ; 
with  lofty  statues,  placing  the  images  of  our  gallant 
ancestry  continually  before  the  eye,  and  sending,  to  the 
degenerate  heart,  by  the  mute  appeal  of  a  steadfast  look, 
the  noble  precepts  of  their  sacred  legacy  ;  if,  instead 
of  that  meagre,  pinched  style  of  architecture, — the 
double  cabin,  with  the  passage  through  the  centre, — 
so  common  in  all  our  towns,  the  graceful  shafts  of  the 
Ionic,  or  the  ornate  entablatures  of  the  Corinthian, 
the  massive  Doric,  or  the  aspiring  Gothic,  won  the 
admiring  eye,  an  elegant  taste  would  manifest  itself  in 
all  the  relations  of  life.  The  old  fabric  of  humanity 
has  to  be  disintegrated,  or  this  must  be  so  ! 

The  beneficial  influence  of  such  imaginative  culture 
would  demonstrate  itself  in  another  respect.  The 
wealthier  portion  of  our  youth,  instead  of  wasting  their 
patrimonies  in  idle  follies  or  flagrant  dissipation,  would 
have  higher  and  better  objects.  So  much  superfluous 
wealth,  indeed,  would  not  be  expended  on  the  favorites 
of  the  Turf, — some  Leviathan  colt  or  Pacolet  filley, 
or, — to  descend  in  the  scale  of  being, — upon  the  pas  de 
seul  or  the  pirouettes  of  a  foreign  danseuse.  All  that 
classical  chit-chat  about  the  pedigree  and  performances 
of  a  Bascombe  or  a  Black  Maria,  or  the  swimming  grace 
and  ab  unloned  voluptuousness  of  an  Elssler  or  a  Ce- 


178  ORATIONS. 

leste,  would  be  terminated  ;  but  other  and  nobler  pur 
poses  and  phraseology  would  engage  the  mind ;  purposes 
and  thoughts  more  worthy  of  beings  who  have  already 
commenced  the  grand  march  of  immortality. 

When  a  taste  for  the  Fine  Arts  is  excited  among  us ; 
when  that  mighty  slumbering  attribute  of  the  mind, — 
its  only  immortal  part,  — the  Ideal,  is  stirred ;  and  not 
till  then  ;  may  we  hope  for  a  native  Literature  ;  a 
Literature  that  shall  redeem  and  illustrate  this  mighty 
sugar-cane  and  cotton-growing  region.  All  previous 
efforts  will  be  a  wasteful  dissemination  of  pearls.  You 
might  as  well  scatter,  with  the  vain  hope  of  vegetation, 
the  delicate  seed  of  the  chrysanthemum  or  the  dahlia, 
upon  the  sandy  slopes  of  the  Chandeleur  isles.  A  few 
periodical  works, — such  as  that  noble  Monthly,  the 
Southern  Literary  Messenger,  at  Kichmond,  or  its  worthy 
collaborator,  The  Magnolia,  at  Savannah, —  may  be 
maintained  by  the  untiring  efforts  of  an  exalted  purpose 
upon  the  parts  of  the  publishers  ;  honoring  and  beau 
tifying  the  region  in  which  they  are  issued  ;  but  they 
will  meet  with  no  adequate  and  spirited  patronage. 

The  cultivation  of  the  Fine  Arts  in  our  country 
being  so  desirable,  it  is  the  part  of  patriotism  to  inquire 
as  to  the  means  by  which  it  can  be  promoted. 

We  are  apt  to  look  too  much  to  our  National  Gov 
ernment  for  an  interference  in  the  affairs  of  life.  Such 
an  interference  would  be  inconsistent  with  the  purposes 
for  which  it  was  established.  And  yet,  belonging  as  I 
do  to  the  straitest  sect  of  our  political  Pharisees,  I  can 
see  no  impediment  to  its  extending  a  liberal  hand  of 
encouragement  to  objects  of  literature  and  art.  The 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  179 

wild  project  of  Joel  Barlow,  for  a  vast  National  Uni 
versity,  is  perhaps  too  heretical  for  any  political  sect 
of  the  present  day.  But  the  General  Government,  in 
the  exercise  of  its  undenied  powers,  might  do  much, 
it  has  done  something,  for  the  Fine  Arts.  The  capitol 
at  Washington  is  a  noble  specimen  of  Architecture. 
Measures  have  been  taken  to  decorate  its  halls  and 
galleries  with  splendid  specimens  of  the  sculptor's  and 
painter's  genius.  Much  more  might  be  done.  The 
various  buildings  through  the  country, — the  custom 
houses,  arsenals,  public  offices,  and  the  like, — might 
be  made  chaste  models  of  taste  and  elegance  ;  and  a 
generous  love  of  the  picturesque  and  beautiful  be  thus 
engendered.  Surely,  if  the  Federal  Government  had 
the  authority  to  fit  out  the  South  Sea  Exploring  Ex 
pedition, — so  creditable  to  American  character, — a 
fortiori,  it  has  the  authority  to  promote,  by  similar 
means,  the  moral  and  social  improvement  of  the  people. 
There  is  one  undoubted  means  by  which  Congress 
might  readily  promote  the  culture  of  the  Moral  Arts. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  a  wealthy  foreigner,  a 
younger  son  of  the  noble  house  of  Percy,  a  few  years 
since,  made  our  government  the  trustee  of  a  bequest  of 
a  half  a  million  of  dollars,  for  "the  increase  and 
diffusion  of  knowledge  among  men."  Over  the  dispo 
sition  of  this  trust,  Congress  has  been  squabbling  for 
several  sessions.  What  nobler  disposition  could  be 
made  of  it ;  better  in  accordance  with  the  wishes  of  the 
testator  ;  than  the  establishment  of  a  National  Acad 
emy  of  the  Fine  Arts  !  Such  an  institution  would 
give  life  and  energy  to  the  Arts.  It  would  serve  as  a 


180  ORATIONS. 

solar  center  from  which  taste  and  refinement  might  be 
radiated  through  the  land.  Our  artists  would  have  a 
Louvre  of  their  own,  to  which  they  might  journey  for 
instruction  ;  a  shrine  upon  which  they  could  fondly 
lay  their  offerings  to  Genius.  The  better  stars  of  our 
country's  destiny,  grant  that  such  may  be  the  character 
of  the  Smithsonian  Institute  ! 

But  it  is  by  our  State  Governments  that  the  most 
liberal  patronage  might  be  extended  to  the  Arts.  If 
that  niggardly  spirit  of  parsimony,  which  has  ever 
marked  our  legislation,  could  be  exorcised,  we  might  look 
for  generous  results.  Our  public  buildings  would  not 
linger  in  a  half-finished  condition ;  as  our  State  Capitol 
has,  its  bare  walls  nearly  as  blank  as  the  minds  of 
many  of  its  occupants.  What  an  influence,  upon  the 
deliberations  of  our  Collected  Wisdom,  would  several 
such  noble  paintings  as  Trumbull's  "  Signers  of  the 
Declaration/'  or  White's  "  Marion,"  exercise.  The 
legislature  of  North  Carolina  sat  a  laudable  example 
in  the  purchase  of  Canova's  Statue  of  Wasington.  Its 
destruction  by  fire,  a  few  years  since,  is  more  to  be 
regretted  than  the  conflagration  of  the  capitol  itself. 
The  last  has  been  restored  ;  but  of  the  other  and  nobler 
possession,  we  may  well  ask,  "  where's  the  Promethean 
spark  that  can  that  light  relume  ?" 

After  all,  it  is  not  to  our  governments,  state  or 
national,  that  we  are  to  look  for  the  principal  culture 
of  the  Fine  Arts.  Our  social  organization  is  mainly 
in  the  hands  of  the  people.  They  must  weave  and 
fashion  their  own  destiny.  If  then,  we  would  acquire 
the  excellences  of  every  civilized  community,  let  us  go 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE  ARTS.  181 

about  the  work  with  the  proper  spirit  and  in  the  right 
way.  Let  the  minds  of  our  youth  be  properly  instruc 
ted;  let  more  of  the  Ideal  be  infused  into  their  education. 
They  should  be  taught  to  love  the  beautiful  and 
spiritual,  as  well  as  the  practical.  "  What  shall  we 
eat,  and  what  shall  we  drink,  and  wherewithall  shall 
we  be  clothed  ?"  should  not  be  the  whole  burthen  of 
their  song  ;  their  tuition  but  the  degraded  pander  to 
such  a  litany.  If  parents  and  teachers  shall  have  a 
proper  regard  to  the  welfare  of  the  young  immortals 
under  their  guardianship,  we  shall,  in  the  next  genera 
tion,  have  no  deficiency  in  the  noblest  graces  of  a 
nation. 

It  is,  however,  from  our  educated  young  men,  that 
our  country  has  the  most  to  hope  ;  that  she  has  the 
right  to  hope  the  most.  Under  the  bend  of  a  smiling 
heaven,  she  has  bestowed  upon  them  all  the  blessings 
of  matchless  political  institutions.  At  the  wells  of 
olden  wisdom,  they  have  been  led  to  drink.  The 
lessons  of  philosophy, 

"  Not  harsh  and  crabbed  as  dull  fools  suppose, 
But  musical  as  is  Apollo's  lute," — 

have  been  instilled  into  their  minds.  Our  country, — 
by  no  distorted  figure  of  speech, — may  be  said  to  be 
looking  to  her  sons,  with  an  anxious,  agonizing  look 
for  a  requital  of  her  favors.  She  has  a  right  to  insist 
that  they  shall  not  bend  to  the  parricidal  doctrines  of 
the  day.  Many,  many,  many  have  yielded  to  the 
blandishments  of  the  importunate  sibyl.  Forgetful 
of  all  the  admonitions  of  history,  they  have  caught 


182  ORATIONS. 

the  epidemic  of  the  age  ;  have  been  content  to  float 
with  the  tide,  and  pass  away,  after  their  little  bicker 
ings  are  over,  to  swell  but  the  drift-wood  of  the  grave. 
This  is  an  unhallowed  perversion  of  all  the  purposes 
for  which  they  were  educated.  This  is  doing  violence 
the  best  interests  -of  their  great  Alina  Mater.  If 
our  young  men  ;  the  thousands  who  are  annually 
poured  out  from  our  universities  and  colleges  ;  were  to 
pursue  a  different  course,  how  much  good  might  be 
accomplished  for  the  country  !  What  centres  of  refine 
ment  and  instruction  might  they  be  !  One  true,  gener 
ous,  unflinching,  uncompromising,  right-onward,  scholar 
can  make  himself  be  felt  in  a  whole  community. 
Alone  and  unaided,  he  can  do  much  to  refine  the  taste, 
elevate  the  views,  and  beautify  the  structure  of  the 
society  in  which  he  lives.  How  much  more  might  the 
co-operation  of  many  such  do  !  By  the  establish 
ment  of  lyceums  and  societies,  they  could  easily  dis 
seminate  better  views  among  the  people.  The  unread- 
ing  would  listen  from  curiosity,  and  be  unwittingly 
improved.  To  such  institutions,  we  may  look,  as  an 
easy  means  for  the  diffusion  of  the  Imaginative  Arts. 
Valuable  collections  of  painting  and  sculpture,  libraries 
of  wholesome  books,  might  be  made  at  little  individual 
expense.  Let  our  educated  men  attend  to  these  things, 
and  we  may  have,  at  no  distant  day,  the  dawn  of  an 
elegant  literature, — of  a  refined  social  state.  The 
Southwest  will  no  longer  be  mapped  in  the  moral 
geography,  as  the  land  of  barbarism  and  Bowie-knives  ! 
But,  as  a  part  of  the  Omar-like  philosophy  of  the 
day,  a  sentiment  prevails  in  our  community  that  the 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  183 

culture  of  the  Imaginative  Faculties  is  incompatible 
with  the  purposes  of  practical  life  ;  that  the  man  who 
cultivates  literature  or  the  fine  arts,  even  to  the  slightest 
extent,  is  unqualified  for  any  thing  else.     This  senti 
ment, — the  dread  of  it, — has   kept  many  a  man  of 
genius,  from  pursuing  the  bent  of  his  inclination.     How 
gross  is  the  fallacy  !     It  is  true  that  there  are  many 
instances  of  men  of  purely  imaginative  minds,  such  as 
Chatterton,  Savage,  and  Rousseau,  who  have,  in  the 
gratification  of  the  amabilis  insania,  neglected  to  pro 
vide  for  the  necessaries  of  life.     It  has  been  said  of 
poets  that  poverty  is  "  the  badge  of  all  their  tribe/'  This 
results,  not  from  any  incapacity,  upon   their  part,  to 
meet  the  sterner  labors  of  life,  but  from  an  exclusive 
devotion  to  the  Muse.     Disregarding   the    advice   of 
Walter  Scott,  they  make  literature  their  sole  depend- 
ance ;  their  crutch  and  not  their  staff.     On  the  contrary, 
in  all  the  principal  professions,  there  are  numberless 
instances  of  men  of  genius,  who  have  not  only  discharged, 
with  exactitude,  all  the  requisitions  of  business,  but 
have  found  ample  opportunity  for  literary  exercises. 
These  are  the  examples  which  we  would  place  before 
the  minds  of  our  young  countrymen,  and  incite  them 
to  imitation. 

Let  us  look  to  the  dry  and  laborious  department  of 
the  Law  :  the  "jealous  mistress"  as  she  is  called  by 
Coke  ;  into  whose  limits  many  of  you  will  perhaps  one 
day  enter.  Do  we  find  that  those,  who  have  risen  to 
the  highest  eminence  of  this  profession,  were  mere 
technical  proficients  ?  The  incumbents  of  the  Wool 
sack,  have,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  been  men  of 


184  ORATIONS. 

letters.  "  The  greatest,  wisest  of  mankind"  was  no  less 
the  Chancellor  of  nature  and  art,  than  of  English  equi 
ty.  Though  his  mind  was  stored  with  all  the  "  learned 
lumber  of  the  law/' — from  estates  in  remainder, 
to  actions  of  assumpsit, — he  still  found  time  to  develope 
the  richest  and  most  accurate  philosophy,  that  the 
world  has  seen ;  and  his  profoundest  investigations  are 
covered  all  over  with  the  hues  of  poetry.  Kun  along 
the  biographical  annals  of  the  English  lawyers,  from 
Sir  Thomas  More  to  Sergeant  Talfourd,  and  you  will 
find  that  all  the  most  eminent  cultivated  the  imagina 
tion,  as  well  as  the  reasoning  powers  and  the  memory. 
Blackstone  acquired  that  polished  elegance,  that  chastity 
of  expression,  which  invest  the  beautiful  system  into 
which  he  brought  the  chaotic  confusion  of  the  Common 
Law,  from  a  long  experiment  of  the  flexibilities  of  our 
language  in  poetic  diction.  His  immortal  Commenta 
ries  are  rich  with  the  colorings  of  fancy.  There  is  not 
a  happier  specimen  of  ideality  in  English  poetry,  than 
his  extended  comparison  of  the  Common  Law  to  an 
antique  Gothic  castle.  Numerous  other  examples  of 
li  terary  excellence  in  lawyers ;  of  those  who  have  loved 
to  tread  in  the  prim-rose  paths  of  poesy  ;  might  be 
drawn  from  the  chronicles  of  legal  life.  They  are  not 
needed.  Indeed,  there  .is  scarcely  an  instance  of  a 
lawyer,  whose  name  has  survived  him  ;  who,  in  short, 
rose  above  the  dead-level  of  green-bag  mediocrity ;  who 
did  not  court  the  Muses.  Erskine,  the  Demosthenes 
of  the  modern  bar  ;  Grattan,  the  eloquent  defender  of 
Irish  liberty, — who  "  stood  by  her  cradle  and  followed 
her  hearse  ;"  Curran,  who  said  that  when  he  could'nt 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  185 

talk  law,  he  talked  metaphor  ;  and  Jeffrey,  who  raised 
English  composition  far  above  the  range  of  Addison, 
and  illuminated  the  pages  of  the  Edinburgh  Review  for 
a  quarter  of  a  century  ;  are  a  few  eloquent  instances. 
There  is  one  lawyer  of  the  present  day  who  should  not 
be  overlooked.  Though  the  viginti  annorum  lucubra- 
tiones  have,  with  him,  been  more  than  doubled,  still  in 
the  midst  of  all, — a  crowded  practice  while  young,  heavy 
official  duties  in  age, — he  has  found  opportunity  to  do 
more  than  any  living  man,  for  literature  and  science. 
The  coming  age  will  receive  much  of  its  intellectual 
form  and  direction  from  the  extra-judicial  exertions  of 
Henry  Brougham. 

These  instances,  without  reference  to  the  similar 
lives  of  great  American  lawyers  ; — to  Wirt,  Story, 
Webster,  Butler,  Gilpin,  and  the  like  ;  ought  to  silence 
all  cavillers,  and  convince  our  young  men  that,  so  far 
from  being  injured  in  professional  attainments,  they 
would  be  greatly  benefitted,  by  an  assidous  cultivation 
of  Letters.  Let  me  not,  however,  be  misunderstood  by 
those  who  are  going  to  this  profession.  The  blnck  letter 
should  not  be  neglected  for  the  illuminated  text. 
Literature  should  be  the  embellishment,  and  not  the 
substance  of  a  lawyer's  life.  There  will,  however,  to 
any  habitually  industrious  man,  be  time  aud  oppor 
tunity  enough  for  both.  To  none  of  my  friends  may 
the  witty  sneer  of  the  English  judge,  upon  the  maiden 
effort  of  a  young  attorney,  be  ever  applicable ;  "Poor 
young  man.  he  has  read  the  wrong  Phillips  \" 

If  the  cultivation  of  the  Ideal  of  life  is  thus  proved 
to  be  not  incompatible  with  the  "  Perfection  of  Reason;" 


186  ORATIONS. 

on  still  stronger  grounds  may  it  be  shown  to  be  not  in 
consistent  with  the  other  learned  professions.  Accord 
ingly  we  find  that  the  most  distinguished  lights  of 
Medical  Science,  and  of  the  Sacred  Desk,  have  possessed 
refined  imaginations  and  cultivated  taste.  Astley 
Cooper,  Abernethey,  Darwin,  Abercrornbie,  Haller, 
Zimmerman,  Kamsey,  Mitchell,  and  a  host  of  others, 
entitled  themselves  as  well  to  the  laurels  of  their  tutelary 
deity,  as  to  his  secret  healing  spells.  The  Pulpit  has 
ever  been  the  friend  of  Letters.  Its  triumphs,  in  phi 
losophy,  in  poetry,  in  eloquence,  are  so  numerous  that, 
when  named  in  this  connection,  they  come  over  the 
thought  like  thronging  stars.  Would  that  more  of  our 
Apostles  would  imitate  the  noble  examples  of  Jeremy 
Taylor  and  Warburton,  of  the  Wesleys  and  Clarke,  of 
Irving  and  Hall,  of  Croly  and  Milman,  of  Channing 
and  England,  of  Bascornbe  and  Maffitt.  Their  divine 
mission  could  not  be  better  promoted  than  by  the  cul 
tivation  of  those  branches  of  learning,  which,  like 
religion,  refine  and  adorn  society,  improve  the  heart, 
elevate  the  intellect,  and,  in  short,  benefit  and  beautify 
all  the  relations  of  life.  The  dawn  of  the  Millenial 
Sabbath  can  never  come  until  the  material  purposes 
and  barbarous  philosophy  of  the  present  age  are  ex 
changed  for  a  more  exalted  and  spiritual  faith. 

In  the  view  we  have  taken  of  the  manifestations  of 
the  Imagination,  we  have  said  nothing  directly  of  one 
of  the  principal ;  the  art  of  the  Orator.  Those  only 
have  been  considered  which  are  popularly  included 
under  the  appellation  of  the  Fine  Arts.  Eloquence, 
however,  is  as  much  an  art  as  painting  or  architecture. 


JACK-CADEISM    AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  187 

It  is  one  of  the  forms  in  which  the  Ideal  of  the  soul 
elucidates  itself.  In  every  age  and  country  it  has 
checked  and  guided  the  passions.  From  the  thrilling 
cry  of  Demosthenes,  "  let  us  march  against  the  man 
of  Macedon,"  to  the  enthusiastic  shout  of  Peter  the 
Hermit,  ringing  all  through  the  dark  headlands  of 
Europe,  "  Rescue  the  Holy  Sepulchre ;"  from  the 
senatorial  grace  and  energy  of  Mirabeau  and  Chatham, 
to  the  wood-notes  wild  of  the  Orator  of  Virginia  ; 
from  the  calmness  and  dignity  of  Paul  before  Agrippa, 
to  the  fervor  of  the  Blind  Preacher, — "  Socrates  died 
like  a  philosopher,  but  Jesus  Christ  like  a  God  !" — it 
has  asserted  its  triumphs.  Well  might  Chancellor 
Kent,  in  such  a  relation,  say  "  peace  has  its  victories 
as  well  as  war  ]"  For  of  all  the  victories  which 
humanity  has  accomplished,  there  are  none  to  compare, 
in  moral  sublimity,  with  those  of  the  mighty  orator, 
standing  single-handed  and  alone,  with  no  ally  but 
his  own  internal  energies ;  standing  calmly  and  boldly, 
with  his  brow  unruffled  and  his  form  erect,  in  a  tempest 
of  opposition,  upon  some  mighty  moral  Waterloo  ; 
checking  the  advance  of  Wrong,  and  directing  the 
marshalled  masses  about  him,  with  the  same  ease  and 
exactness  of  sway  with  which  the  sun  whirls  worlds 
around  him,  as  if  every  ray  of  his  glory  were  an  arm 
of  Titan  power. 

We  cannot  stay  to  paint  those  victories.  The  field, 
is  illimitable.  Eloquence  has  ever  been  the  greatest 
of  moral  agents.  From  the  pulpit,  and  the  bar,  and 
the  forum,  and  the  hustings,  it  has  fallen  like  a  wizard 
spell  upon  mankind.  Alas  !  how  low  is  its  state  in 


188  ORATIONS. 

our  country  !  To  what  a  degradation  has  it  been 
reduced ,  when  the  Congregated  Wisdom  of  the  nation, 
— occupying  the  places  once  held  by  the  Fathers  and 
Prophets  of  constitutional  freedom, — can  stoop  for  days 
to  the  vile  vandalism  of  an  Ogle,  or  the  disgraceful 
diatribes  of  Doctor  Duncan  ! 

It  would  be  ungenerous  in  a  survey  of  the  condition 
of  the  Fine  Arts  in  our  country,  to  neglect  the  mention 
of  some  of  our  own  artists  who  have  shed  honor  upon 
the  South.  In  the  Cimmerian  gloom  which  covers  us, 
the  name  of  Washington  Allston  shines  like  a  star. 
The  boy  of  Carolina,  by  the  staunch  liftings  of  an 
eagle  spirit, — unaided  and  unencouraged, — has  risen 
to  the  highest  pinnacles  of  his  profession.  The  stern 
voice  of  criticism,  and  the  gentle  lips  of  consenting 
beauty,  even  in  the  old  world,  have  hailed  him  as  the 
Apelles  of  the  age.  When  American  genius  is  spoken 
of,  abroad,  the  name  of  Allston  is  linked  with  Irving, 
and  Bancroft,  and  Bryant.  Of  less  reputation,  but  of 
no  mean  attainments  in  their  profession,  are  Cogdell, 
Fraser,  Crawford,  Mills,  and  White,  natives  of  the 
South  :  while,  from  our  kindred  West,  kindred  in 
character  and  origin,  Power,  and  Brackett,  and  William 
West  have  stepped  to  exalted  niches  in  the  temple  of 
art.  These  have  proven  that,  if  our  people  would  but 
encourage  genius,  we  have  material,  native  with  us, 
from  which  a  lofty  intellectual  Vatican  might  be 
erected. 

But  we  must  hasten  to  a  conclusion.  You  have 
been  detained  too  long,  Gentlemen,  by  this  weak  effort 
to  depict  the  evils  of  the  mechanical  exclusiveness  of 


JACK-CADEISM   AND    THE    FINE    ARTS.  189 

the  day  ;  its  blasting  effects,  particularly  in  our  section, 
upon  morals,  literature,  and  all  the  refined  purposes  of 
social  life  ;  and  by  the  attempt  to  show  that  those  evils 
can  only  be  eradicated,  as  they  have  been  from  all  na 
tions  distinguished  for  a  lofty  intellectual  and  moral  ex 
istence,  by  a  generous  culture  of  the  Plastic  Arts.     Yet 
the  subject  is  one  of  vast  importance.     There  is  a  Phi 
losophy  of  the  Imagination, — though  never  chaptered  in 
Political  Economy, — as  profound  and  as  productive  of 
extended  practical  benefit,  as  ever  Eicardo,  or  Adam 
Smith,  established  for  the  grosser  objects  of  sense.     It 
is  precisely  such  a  philosophy  we  want   most.      We 
need  no  renewed  incentives  to  traffic  or  accumulation. 
They  are  as  strong  with  us  as  the  all-compelling  prin 
ciple  of  gravitation.     We  want  motives  to  loftier  and 
less  material  creeds.     I  could  not,  therefore,  upon  this 
occasion, — when  called  to  speak  before  those  who  are 
hereafter  to  stand,  perhaps  at  the  helm  of  State,  cer 
tainly  at  the  helm  of  mind,  in  our  land, — decline  an 
effort  to  do  something,  however  little,  for  principles  so 
essential  to  our  weal  as  a  people  ;  so  interlinked  with 
all  our  better  hopes  and  duties  ;  so  pernicious  if  over 
looked  ;  so  fraught  with  happiness  and  excellence  if 
rightly  cultured.     Their  neglect  is  not  merely  a  tem 
porary  evil.     Every  age  bears,  in  some  manner,  within 
itself,  the  age  that  is  to  follow.     If  we  would  have 
our  posterity  intellectual  and  refined,  we  must  begin 
the  improvement.     Oh,  if  we  would  but  rightly  act, 
what  a  glorious  reversion  might  be  theirs  !     I  am  apt, 
in  spite  of  all  discouragements,  to  be  enthusiastic  upon 
the  destinies  of  my  country.     When  I  look  upon  all 


190  ORATIONS. 

her  giant  physical  resources  ;  her  matchless  political 
institutions  ;  and,  more  than  all,  when  I  cling,  with  a 
prophet's  fondness,  to  the  belief  that  her  people  will 
yet  waken  up  to  the  nobler  purposes  of  social  being  ; 
I  feel  a  pride  in  our  plain  democratic  patrimony,  which 
I  would  not  exchange  for  all  the  tawdy  furniture  and 
gilded  trappings  of  aristocratic  institutions.  At  such 
an  hour,  the  young  American  patriot  can,  like  the  old 
Welsh  bard  upon  the  rock  of  Snowden,  take  his  stand, 
as  we  now  do,  upon  the  summit  of  one  of  our  over 
looking  mountains,  and  see,  far  off,  through  the  lifting 
haze  of  futurity,  the  domes  and  turrets  of  a  mighty 
people,  flashing  in  the  eyes  of  the  gladdened  sun  ;  the 
mingled  harmonies  of  intellectual  and  religious  excel 
lence  going  up  from  every  vale  and  hill-top  ;  social 
and  domestic  beauty  covering  the  land  like  a  smiling 
atmosphere  ;  each  successive  billow  of  time  rolling  up 
an  accumulation  of  improvement ;  and  the  whole 
mighty  heart  palpitating  with  virtuous  emotions  of 
pride  and  joy  at  the  rapid  strides  which  these  young 
republics  have  made,  and  are  still  making,  to  perfec 
tion.  Heaven  grant  that  such  visions  may  prove 
something  better  than  the  wild  dreams  of  Plato,  or  the 
Utopian  fancies  of  More  ! 


NATIONAL    WELCOME 

TO    THE    SOLDIERS    RETURNING    FROM    MEXICO: 
AN    ORATION 

bg  Appointment,   at  |$obih,   Alabama, 

JULY    4,    1848. 


ORATION. 


WHEN  a  Roman  army  had  achieved  some  important 
victory,  and  returned  to  the  city,  accompanied  by 
spoils  and  captives,  the  gratified  inhabitants,  with  ex 
ulting  shouts,  welcomed  them  at  the  gates,  conducted 
them  through  the  long  and  glittering  streets,  beneath 
flower-wreathed  and  sculptured  arches,  and,  from  the 
lofty  porticos  of  the  capitol,  proclaimed  that  the  occa 
sion  should  be  commemorated  as  a  national  holiday. 
In  a  kindred  spirit,  we  have  met,  upon  this  our 
country's  anniversary,  to  welcome  the  return  of  a  por 
tion  of  a  gallant  army,  who,  battling  in  their  country's 
cause  in  a  foreign  land,  have  won  laurels  as  glorious 
and  brilliant  as  ever  decked  the  brow  of  Roman  con 
queror  or  consul.  The  time  is  fortunately  adapted  to 
the  occasion  ;  and  we  can  but  regard  it  as  a  happy  co 
incidence,  that  we  should  now  be  able  to  greet  the 
return  of  the  gallant  soldier,  the  war-worn  patriot,  the 
choicest  spirits  of  the  fame-covered  army  of  Mexico, 
amid  the  light  and  exultation  of  another  Sabbath  of 


194  ORATIONS. 

our  political  independence.  Their  deeds  have  served 
to  elucidate  afresh  the  primal  splendors  of  this  morn 
ing  of  liberty  ;  and  it  is  fit  that  we,  while  meeting 
around  the  old  altars  upon  which  were  kindled  the 
fires  of  seventy-six,  should  mingle,  with  the  gratitude 
and  reverence  we  pay  the  sainted  fathers  of  our  land, 
our  admiration  and  our  love  for  their  worthy  descen 
dants  who  have  lit  the  fires  of  freedom  and  fame  anew. 
The  lessons  of  the  day  would  indeed  seem  to  demand 
such  an  acknowledgment ;  and  even  now,  throughout 
all  portions  of  this  broad  continental  republic  of  ours, 
amidst  the  hymns  of  thanksgiving  and  shouts  of  joy 
with  which  the  day  has  been  hailed,  is  heard  one  uni 
versal  sentiment  of  praise  and  panegyric  for  the  heroic 
hearts  who  have  placed  the  standard  of  the  stars  above 
those  lofty  palaces  where  once  floated  the  golden 
gonfalon  of  Cortez,  and  was  heard  the  wild  music  of 
the  teocallis  of  Montezuma. 

To  the  soldier  himself,  it  must  be  particularly 
gratifying  to  be  welcomed  home  amidst  the  national 
music  and  patriotic  ceremonials  which  attest  that  the 
lofty  sentiments  of  liberty,  the  noble  lessons  of  ances 
tral  wisdom,  and  the  generous  admiration  for  courage, 
patriotism  and  heroic  self-devotion,  are  not  yet  extinct 
in  the  country  of  his  birth  and  love.  His  own  heart 
has  recently  received  a  new  baptism  and  inspiration  ; 
and  it  exults,  like  a  young  eagle,  once  more  to  soar  in 
the  breezes  of  freedom,  and  bathe  its  plumage  in  the 
rich  sunlight  of  independence  now  spreading  like  the 
broad  smile  of  heaven,  over  the  green  land  of  Wash 
ington,  from  the  rocky  pinnacles  of  New  England  to 


NATIONAL    WELCOME.  195 

the   sunset-reddened   waters   of  the   Gulph  of  Cali 
fornia  ! 

With  these  emotions,  we  all,  citizen,  and  soldier, 
hail  another  return  of  our  national  jubilee  !  It  has 
come  under  circumstances  of  peculiar  and  unprece 
dented  interest.  Never  before  did  our  country,  in  her 
internal  condition,  as  well  as  in  her  relations  with  the 
rest  of  the  world,  present  herself  in  so  imposing,  so 
influential  a  position.  Three  score  years  and  ten  and 
two  have  passed  since  the  establishment  of  her  nation 
ality,  by  the  Declaration  of  Independence  ;  and  in  that 
period  she  has  sprung  up  from  a  state  of  colonial 
vassalage  to  imperial  magnitude  and  grandeur.  The 
infant  Hercules,  which  could  scarcely  strangle  the 
serpents  around  his  cradle,  now  stands  almost  like  the 
Angel  of  the  Apocalypse,  with  one  foot  upon  the 
mounains  of  the  East,  and  the  other  upon  the  waters 
of  the  Pacific,  and  proclaims  to  the  world  the  downfall 
of  despotism, — the  termination  of  tyranny. 

This  growth  and  extension  of  our  country  have  no 
parallel  in  the  history  of  the  world.  Man,  under  the 
influence  of  free  institutions,  seems  to  have  been 
gifted  with  new  power  of  increase  and  expansion.  The 
thirteen  meagre  colonies  that,  in  1776,  hemmed  the 
Atlantic,  with  a  population  of  scarcely  three  million 
of  inhabitants,  destitute  of  any  of  the  higher  advan 
tages  or  opportunities  of  social,  intellectual,  moral,  or 
political  culture,  have  now  become  thirty  flourishing 
States,  with  vast  territorial  dominions,  more  than 
treble  their  original  size,  bordering  on  all  the  seas  of 
North  America,  and  embracing  a  population  of  twenty 


196  ORATIONS. 

millions  of  souls,  existing  in  the  highest  social  and 
political  condition,  blessed  by  all  the  benefactions  of 
science,  art,  literature  and  religion. 

Well  may  such  a  people  rejoice  on  the  birth-day  of 
the  nationality,  which  has  given  them  all  this.  But 
it  is  not  in  this  alone,  nor  in  this  chiefly,  that  the 
philosophic  mind  finds  cause  for  rejoicing,  upon  this 
anniversary.  The  Fourth  of  July  gave  birth  to  some 
thing  better  than  a  nation.  It  gave  birth  to  an  idea, 
to  liberty— to  principles,  never  before  recognized, 
without  which  all  nationhood  would  be  tyranny,  and 
which  are  as  essential  to  human  happiness  as  the  at 
mosphere  to  the  lungs,  or  religion  to  the  soul  of  the 
sinner.  These  principles  became  incarnate  in  our  form 
of  government — we  became  the  Messiah  of  the  new  po 
litical  creed,  and  we  sent  our  doctrines  into  the  world 
to  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature. 

The  world  was  slow  to  learn  the  lessons  of  truth. 
Nations  were  like  Saul  of  Tarsus,  with  scales  upon 
their  eyes,  going  on  to  the  Damascus  of  despotism. 
Suddenly  and  of  late,  a  light  has  shone  out  as  from 
heaven  upon  the  nations  of  Europe.  The  slumber 
ing  continent  was  heaved  like  a  sea  in  a  tempest. 
Thrones  and  crowns,  and  sceptres — the  regalia  of  roy 
alty,  the  baubles  and  gewgaws  of  aristocracy,  were, 
like  the  host  of  Pharaoh,  swallowed  up  in  the  Eed 
Sea  of  Eevolution.  France  sprung  to  republicanism 
in  full  beauty  and  symmetry  ;  and,  from  the  orange 
groves  of  Sicily  to  the  poplar  avenues  on  the  Danube, 
spread  the  great  principles  of  our  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence,  "that  governments  are  instituted  .among 


NATIONAL    WELCOME.  197 

men  only  for  the  protection  of  life,  liberty,  and  the 
pursuit  of  happiness,  deriving  their  just  powers  alone 
from  the  consent  of  the  governed." 

But,  while  well-nigh  all  Europe, — France,  Italy, 
Austria,  Prussia,  Holland  and  Belgium,  at  least,  have 
been  illuminated  by  the  radiance  which  beamed  from 
the  burning  throne  of  the  Bourbon, — by  the  Prome 
thean  fire  that  young  La  Fayette  snatched  from  the 
altars  of  American  Liberty, — it  is  melancholy  to  be 
hold  the  oppression,  the  degradation,  the  darkness 
that  have  covered,  with  a  foul  eclipse,  the  beautiful 
but  blasted  land  of  Emmet,  G-rattan,  Curran  and 
O'Connell.  The  cradle  in  which  has  been  rocked  so 
many  of  the  champions  of  freedom  in  every  struggling 
nation  ;  so  much  of  the  genius,  eloquence  and  courage, 
which  have  illustrated  and  adorned  the  annals  of  our 
own  country  ;  which  gave  to  us  a  Montgomery,  an  Ad 
dis  Emmett,  and  a  Shields, — lies  bound  around  by  the 
Anaconda  folds  of  our  own  ancestral  tyrant ;  and  the 
world  has  recently  beheld,  in  the  full  light  of  the 
civilization  of  the  nineteenth  century,  before  the  eyes 
of  all  men,  a  gallant  patriot,  a  man  of  soul  and  genius, 
for  fearlessly  daring  to  express  Republican  sentiments, 
for  nobly  asserting  God's  truth  and  God's  freedom, 
snatched  by  the  myrmidons  of  power  from  his  house 
hold  altars,  from  the  bosom  of  his  fair  wife,  and  the 
arms  of  his  young  rosy  children, — condemned  as  a 
felon,  and  hurried  off  in  chains  to  the  hulks  of  Ber 
muda  !  Ah,  sirs,  this  is  the  very  sublimity  of  melan 
choly  !  The  incarceration  of  John  Mitchel  is  a  cloud 
that  blots  half  the  sun  of  the  age.  Great  God  !  shall 


198  ORATIONS. 

these  things  continue  ?     Shall  Ireland  always  be  the 
slave-yard  of  England  and  Famine  ? 

Oh,  blood  of  martyrs !  staining  all  her  green, 
Soon  may  you  wash  her  spotted  garments  clean  ; 
The  Harp  of  Tara !  soon  may  it  pour  forth 
The  olden  anthems  thro'  the  island-north  ; 
And  Emmett's  epitaph  ring  o'er  the  sea, 
Erin  Mavoureen !  thou  art  free,  thou  art  free  1 

But  let  us  not  sadden  farther  the  enthusiasm  of  to 
day,  by  thoughts  like  these.  There  is  cause  enough 
for  exultation  here  in  this  Palestine  of  the  West.  Our 
country  has  passed  through  two  full  generations  of 
manhood,  and  has  signalized,  both  in  peace  and  war, 
the  stability  of  her  institutions,  and  their  capacity  of 
extension  at  least  to  an  entire  continent.  The  croak 
ing  prophets  of  despotism  told  us,  at  the  outset,  that 
our  government  might  work  well  upon  a  small  scale  ; 
that  like  a  summer  flower  it  would  bloom  in  the  peace 
ful  sunshine,  but  that  it  could  not  stand  the  storms 
of  war  ;  that  like  a  circle  in  the  waters  it  would  dis 
solve  by  expansion  ;  that  we  would  be  weak,  distracted, 
and  ineffective  for  any  gigantic  struggle  with  foreign 
nations.  Thanks  to  the  better  wisdom  of  our  ances 
tors  ;  thanks  to  the  sagacious  pilots  who  have  stood  at 
the  helm  of  the  Ship  of  State  ;  thanks  to  the  stout 
arms  and  bold  hearts  of  our  patriotic  yeomanry  ; 
thanks,  especial  thanks,  to  tbe  gallant  army  of  Mexico, 
the  lie  has  been  given  to  all  such  ill-omened  forebod 
ings.  It  has  been  proven  that  the  machinery  of  this 
government,  though,  like  the  allegoric  vision  of  Ezekiel, 
it  has  its  wheels  within  its  wheels,  with  nice  and  deli- 


NATIONAL    WELCOME.  199 

cate  arrangement,  has  yet  energy  and  power  that  can 
resist  and  overcome  all  attacks  from  internal  or  exter 
nal  foes  !  I  will  not  linger  upon  a  consideration  of 
its  workings  in  the  midst  of  peace  ;  but  pass  at  once 
to  a  review  of  the  spectacles  which  have  been  presented 
in  the  recent  war  with  Mexico.  This  will  be  more 
appropriate  to  the  present  time  and  occasion. 

Three  years  ago,  our  country  had  been  in  a  state  of 
unexampled  peace  and  prosperity  for  thirty  years.  She 
had  gone  on  expanding  in  population  and  wealth,  with 
magical  rapidity  ;  spreading  the  waves  of  civilization 
all  over  the  valleys  and  mountains  of  the  west  ;  and 
making  the  wilderness  and  desert  places  to  bloom  and 
blossom  like  the  rose.  She  was  at  peace  with  all  na 
tions.  Upon  her  Southwestern  border  lay  a  young 
Kepublic,  peopled  by  emigrants  from  her  own  bosom, 
that  had  won  its  independence  and  established  its  na 
tionality  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  and  had  been  recog 
nised  by  all  the  leading  nations  of  Europe  as  a  free 
and  separate  sovereignty.  For  seven  years  it  had  as 
serted  its  sovereignty  from  the  Sabine  to  the  Rio 
Grande,  its  denned  limits  in  its  constitution,  without 
even  an  effort  upon  the  part  of  its  original  rulers  to 
exert  authority  or  jurisdiction  over  it.  It  was  as  in 
dependent  then,  according  to  the  laws  of  nations,  as 
the  United  States  are  to-day.  This  young  Republic 
sought  admission  into  our  confederacy.  By  a  public, 
peaceful  act,  we  admitted  her,  with  her  constitutional 
boundaries  ;  but  at  the  same  time  avowed  oar  readi 
ness  to  make  all  rightful  reparation  for  any  injury 
done,  and  to  treat  with  the  neighboring  nation  for  a 


200  ORATIONS. 

proper  line  of  boundary.  This  peaceful,  prudent  mea 
sure,  Mexico,  the  claimant  country,  notwithstanding 
her  claim  had  expired  by  every  statute  of  limitation, 
besides  having  been  lost  by  an  original  action  of  eject 
ment,  chose  to  construe  into  an  insult  to  her  Castillian 
dignity.  At  once  she  sounded  the  clarion  of  war,  and 
issued  her  national  proclamation  that  she  would  not 
cease  from  hostilities  till  she  had  driven  every  Ameri 
can,  east  of  the  Sabine.  Suddenly,  after  months  of 
secret  preparation,  she  poured  a  large  army  over  the 
Kio  Grande,  and  struck  the  first  blow  upon  the  soil  of 
the  United  States.  Congress,  at  once,  with  a  unani 
mity  that  presented  but  two  opposing  voices  in  the 
Senate,  and  but  fourteen  in  the  House,  declared  "  war 
to  exist  by  the  act  of  the  Eepublic  of  Mexico/'  and 
preparations  were  at  once  made  to  conduct  it  to  "  a 
speedy  and  successful  termination." 

Thus,  by  no  fault  of  ours,  we  were  involved  in  this 
Mexican  war  ;  and  we  entered  into  it  like  Godfrey  ot 
Bouillon,  with  the  Holy  Lance,  into  the  field  of  Asca- 
lon,  crying  "  God  for  the  Eight  and  the  Just  \"  The 
events  that  followed  constitute  the  brightest  an 
nals  in  our  history.  Upon  the  fields  of  Palo  Alto  and 
Resaca  de  la  Palma,  at  Monterey  and  Buena  Vista, 
the  heroic  Taylor  and  his  chivalrous  little  army  per 
formed  feats  of  valor  and  prowess  which  hurled  back, 
in  ignominious  defeat  and  confusion,  the  multitudinous 
hordes  of  Mexico,  and  covered  the  American  name 
with  a  blaze  of  glory.  The  blessings  of  our  people 
every  where,  of  every  faith,  are  resting  like  a  beautiful 
diadem  upon  his  brow. 


NATIONAL    WELCOME.  201 

I  cannot  stop  to  depict  the  many  thrilling  incidents 
connected  with  these  engagements.  One  only  will  I 
mention,  as  it  is  especially  honoring  to  a  gallant  offi 
cer,  now  within  the  sound  of  my  voice,  and  whom  Ala 
bama  is  proud  to  claim  as  an  adopted  son.  In  the 
terrific  battle  of  Buena  Vista,  when,  wave  after  wave, 
the  Mexican  forces,  confident  in  their  overwhelming 
numbers,  had  dashed  and  broken  upon  our  apparently 
devoted  little  army,  which  appeared  about  to  crumble 
and  sink  before  the  repeated  onsets  ;  when  Santa  Anna 
rallied  his  Aztec  legions,  his  reserve  corps,  and  brought 
them  down  to  sweep  all  before  him  ; — then,  when  the 
standard  of  the  eagle  and  the  stars  was  waving  to  and 
fro,  like  the  torn  sail  of  a  sinking  ship  in  a  storm, 
then,  at  that  critical  moment,  when  O'Brien's  battery 
had  been  captured — then,  says  General  Taylor,  in  his 
official  report,  "  Captain  Bragg,  who  had  just  arrived 
from  the  left,  was  ordered  at  once  into  battery.  With 
out  any  infantry  to  support  him,  and  at  the  imminent 
risk  of  losing  his  guns,  this  officer  came  rapidly  into 
action,  the  Mexican  line  being  but  a  few  yards  from 
the  muzzles  of  his  pieces.  The  first  discharge  of  can 
ister  caused  the  enemy  to  hesitate  ;  the  second  and 
third  drove  him  back  in  disorder,  and  saved  the  day!" 
Proud  words,  proudly  won  ! 

But  it  is  with  the  incidents  of  the  war  on  the  South 
ern  Line,  as  it  is  called — with  that  brilliant  series  of 
victories,  beginning  at  Vera  Cruz,  and  terminating  at 
the  city  of  Mexico,  that  we  have  chiefly  to  deal  to-day. 
We  all  remember  when  the  call  for  volunteers  was  sent 
through  onr  land,  like  the  fiery  cross  of  Clan  Alpir 


202  ORATIONS. 

through  the  hills  of  Scotland.  We  all  remember,  when 
it  was  announced  that  the  gallant  hero  of  Queenstown, 
Chippewa,  and  Niagara  was  to  lead  the  expedition, 
with  what  alacrity  and  enthusiasm  the  ardent  young 
men  of  our  country,  following  the  heroic  example  which 
had  been  set  them  by  our  gallant  veteran,  Desha,  re 
sponded  to  the  call  of  the  government.  They  were 
anxious  to  emulate  the  deeds  of  their  ancestors  ;  and 
the  rusted  sword  of  the  Kevolution,  and  the  tattered 
banner  of  1812,  were  again  given  to  the  sunshine  and 
the  breeze.  Every  section  of  the  Union  sent  forth  its 
contributions  of  energy  and  valor.  It  is  not  my  pur 
pose  now  to  designate  all  of  these,  but  it  is  proper  that 
I  should  refer  specially  to  one  regiment,  whose  remnant 
— ah,  sad  word  ! — whose  remnant  is  before  me.  The 
citizens  of  Mobile  had  the  proud  pleasure  to  testify 
their  admiration  and  regard  for  the  Palmetto  Kegiment, 
as  it  passed  through  this  city  on  its  way  to  the  war. 
It  was  then  composed  of  more  than  a  thousand  men, 
headed  by  the  gallant  Butler,  whose  name  was  even 
then  a  synonyme  for  all  that  was  valorous  and  noble. 
Long  shall  we  remember  the  feast  of  patriotism  and 
the  flow  of  feeling,  the  gushing  emotions,  and  the  elo 
quent  words  which  marked  our  intercourse,  on  the  day 
they  embarked  for  the  scene  of  operations.  Proud  an 
ticipations  and  fond  hopes  were  cherished  that  they 
would  prove  themselves  worthy  descendants  of  sires 
who  had  fought  and  bled  at  Eutaw,  Camden,  and  The 
Cowpens.  With  similar  emotions,  we  saw  the  gallant 
sons  of  Georgia,  and  the  chivalrous  spirits  of  our  own 
State,  pass  through  this  city,  for  the  beleaguered  con- 


NATIONAL    WELCOME.  203 

fines  of  Mexico  ;  and  their  enthusiastic  patriotism,  for 
titude  and  perseverance  proved  that  they  wanted  but 
fair  fields  and  favorable  opportunities  to  have  accom 
plished  as  valiant  performances  as  those  that  fell  to 
the  good  fortune  of  any  portion  of  the  army. 

Time  would  fail  even  to  enumerate  the  interesting 
events  which  now  followed,  adding  to  the  imperishable 
fame  of  our  country.  We  can  but  glance  at  a  few 
which  stand  out  prominently  above  the  rest. 

As  the  yellow  rays  of  sunset  streamed  along  the 
white  line  of  coast,  and  the  smooth  and  glassy  waters 
of  the  gulf,  near  Cape  Antonio  Lizardo,  and  west  of 
the  Island  of  Sacrificios,  on  the  ninth  of  March,  1847, 
was  presented  the  most  singular  and  brilliant  spectacle 
ever  witnessed  on  this  continent.  A  fleet  of  frigates, 
steamers,  and  transports,  each  bearing  the  star- 
spangled  banner,  lay  stationed  along  the  bay ;  and 
soon  a  long  line  of  surf  boats,  bearing  four  thousand 
men,  under  the  immediate  command  of  General  Worth, 
to  the  sound  of  spirited  martial  music,  and  with  a 
shout  that  made  the  welkin  ring,  as  a  gun  gave  signal, 
bore  for  the  shore.  As  the  keels  touched  the  shallow 
beach,  the  men  sprang  waist-deep  in  the  water,  and 
simultaneously  ascended  the  sandy  slope,  and  formed 
in  battle  array.  Soon  another  line  followed,  and  ano 
ther,  and  the  American  army  was  in  Mexico,  and  the 
city  of  Vera  Cruz  invested.  With  its  powerful  castle 
of  San  Juan  d'Ulloa,  it  had  been  deemed  impregnable, 
the  Gibraltar  of  America  ;  but  after  thirteen  days'  in 
vestment,  it  was  compelled  to  yield  to  the  profound 


204  ORATIONS. 

scientific  skill  and  regulated  valor  of  the  "Kepublic  of 
the  North." 

Now  began  that  series  of  brilliant  victories  of  which 
I  have  spoken.  When  wTe  compare  the  disparity  of 
forces  ;  when  we  reflect  that  one  army  fought  upon 
the  march,  ever  wearied  and  jaded,  exposed  to  the  in 
clemencies  of  a  hostile  climate,  in  the  midst  of  an  ene 
my's  country  ;  and  the  other  from  its  mountain  fast 
nesses,  and  well- wrought  fortifications,  with  every  ad 
vantage  of  a  knowledge  and  possession  of  the  country 
— we  shall  find  nothing  in  all  history  to  surpass  the 
achievements  of  the  American  arms. 

Up  through  the  long  and  difficult  passes  of  the 
Cordilleras  ;  by  the  gigantic  gorges  and  tremendous 
chasms  ;  over  the  pedigrals  of  volcanoes  ;  across  tum 
bling  mountain  torrents,  where  every  bridge  was  a  for 
tification  ;  beneath  the  eye  of  Popocatapetl  and  Ori 
zaba, — the  little  army  of  Scott,  seldom  exceeding  ten 
thousand  men,  pushed  its  way  onward  to  the  heart  of 
the  country.  In  vain  did  Santa  Anna  struggle  to 
make  of  Cerro  Gordo,  a  Mexican  Thermopylee.  The 
American  army  bore  down  all  insistence,  and  struck 
the  mind  of  Mexico  with  a  consternation  from  which 
it  never  recovered.  Here  the  gallant  Shields  was  shot 
through  the  breast  by  a  grape-shot,  Providence,  how 
ever,  preserving  him  to  reap  greener  laurels  upon  sub 
sequent  fields  of  fame. 

On  the  17th  of  August,  the  army  reached  the  turn 
ing  ridge  of  the  mountains,  and  here,  from  the  spot 
called  Buena  Vista  by  Humboldt,  was  caught  the  first 
view  of  the  valley  of  Mexico,  containing  its  brilliant 


NATIONAL    WELCOME.  205 

and  populous  city.  A  lovelier  vision  lias  never  risen 
on  the  eye  of  man  since  the  old  prophet  stood  upon 
the  summit  of  Pisgah,  and  gazed  upon  the  flowery 
Palestine  below.  It  spread  out  like  a  rich  garden, 
teeming  with  every  variety  of  tropical  fruit,  plant  and 
flower.  The  orange  tree  waved  its  glistening  foliage, 
but  half  concealing  its  golden  apples,  and  the  pome 
granate  and  the  cactus  displayed  their  gorgeous  blos 
soms,  giving  far  other  invitation  than  to  the  hostile 

visitations  of  war. 

"  Oh,  Christ!  it  was  a  goodly  sight  to  see 
What  heaven  liatd  done  for  that  delicious  land." 

But  man  had  prostituted  its  beauties  by  his  evil 
passions  and  malignant  deeds  ;  and  the  stern  voice  of 
duty  called  our  gallant  army  on,  in  their  effort  to  re 
duce  to  subjection  a  foe  which  pertinaciously  refused 
all  offers  of  peace.  This  was  one  great  characteristic 
in  the  management  of  this  war,  which  will  redound  to 
the  eternal  honor  of  our  government,  that  we  always 
bore  the  olive-branch  in  advance  of  the  sword — and, 
before  we  would  crush  our  foe,  invited  him  to  peace. 
But,  with  a  fatuity  almost  like  insanity,  he  continued 
to  reject  our  proflers. 

In  the  middle  of  the  summer  solstice,  our  army 
reached  the  fields  of  Contreras  and  Churubusco.  There 
the  enemy  had  rallied  all  his  forces  for  a  desperate  and 
final  struggle,  and  had  entrenched  himself  with  the 
most  powerful  fortifications.  But  after  battles  on  two 
successive  days,  he  was  completely  vanquished — -the 
fourth  army  which  the  Mexican  Republic  had  raised 


206  ORATIONS. 

in  eighteen  months  being  destroyed,  and  the  capitol  of 
the  "magnanimous  nation"  left  completely  at  the 
mercy  of  the  conqueror.  These  battles,  called  by  Gen. 
Scott  the  Battles  of  Mexico,  were  the  greatest  ever 
fought  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic — if  we  except  the 
almost  fabulous  narratives  given  of  the  forces  of  Boli 
var,  Hidalgo  and  Morelos.  The  Mexicans  numbered 
fully  thirty  thousand  men,  while  Scott  had  not  one- 
third  of  that  number.  Here  the  Palmetto  Kegiment 
won  its  most  brilliant  laurels — laurels  alas  !  bathed  in 
the  heart's  blood  of  its  gallant  commander.  In  the 
thickest  of  the  terrible  fight  of  Churubusco,  when  others 
had  faltered,  when  the  day  seemed  well  nigh  lost,  the 
heroic  Shields  determined  to  make  one  more  desperate 
struggle  for  victory.  He  rode  up  before  the  Palmetto 
Kegiment,  and  demanded,  loud  above  the  din  of  battle 
— "Who  will  follow  me?"  "Every  South  Carolinian 
here,  General,"  exclaimed  the  noble  Butler,  "will  follow 
you  to  the  death  \"  And  through  the  iron  hail,  like 
the  Old  Guard  at  Lodi,  the  Palmettoes  dashed  to  the 
charge—  and  the  victory.  But  a  terrible  toll  did  they 
pay  at  those  gates  of  death.  In  front  of  his  regiment 
bravely  cheering  them  on,  their  "father  and  their, 
colonel "  fell !  Oh  do  not  deem  his  death  unfortunate. 
He  fell  as  brave  men  love  to  die.  Sooner  or  later  death 
must  come  to  us  all ; — the  fresh  green  turf  is  a  far 
sweeter  couch  than  the  feverish  bed, — and  there  is  no 
nobler  boon  than  to  "  look  proudly  to  Heaven  from 
the  death  bed  of  fame."  Sleep  proudly,  noble  Butler  ! 
The  children  of  future  days  will  speak  thy  name  with 
pride,  and  strive  to  imitate  thy  deeds  ; — and  when 


NATIONAL    WELCOME.  207 

Carolina's  sons  shall  be  called,  in  their  country's  service, 
to  other  fields  of  fame,  they  will  pray  to  pass  like  thee, 
in  Enoch's  iiery  chariot  to  heaven. 

An  armistice  delayed  the  .forward  movement  of  our 
troops  ;  and  it  was,  with  Punic  faith, improved  by  the 
enemy  to  organise  further  resistance,  and  to  collect  his 
energies  and  resources  in  the  vain  hope  of  saving  his 
capital  from  its  threatened  doom.  The  treachery  being- 
detected,  hostilities  were  at  once  resumed,  and  the  san 
guinary  struggles  at  Molino  del  Eey  and  Chapultepec 
ensued.  These  terrific  contests  seemed  to  revive  all  the 
horrors  of  the  triste  noche  of  Cortez  ;  and  the  cause 
ways  which  had  been  baptized  by  Castillian  blood,  were 
bathed  anew  by  the  ensanguined  torrents  that  flowed, 
as  fast  and  freely,  from  the  bosoms  of  American  valor. 
The  terrible  disproportion  of  forces,  the  formidable  for 
tifications  which  had  to  be  overcome,  invested  the 
achievements  of  our  troops  with  a  splendor  as  brilliant 
as  the  richest  haloes  of  chivalry.  They  are  all  recorded 
by  the  pencil  of  the  historian  in  illuminated  letters,  and 
I  need  but  allude  to  them,to  fill  the  mind  with  thronging 
scenes  of  embattled  contest,  heroic  achievements,  indom 
itable  fortitude — the  waving  banners,  the  thundering 
artillery,  the  gleaming  lines,  the  charging  squadrons — 
the  shrieks,  the  roar,  the  carnage  and  the  smoke  of  war 
in  all  its  most  imposing  forms.  Here,  in  cooperation 
with  the  whole  army,  the  Palmetto  Eegiment  renewed 
its  right  to  be  called  by  excellency,  the  chivalry  of  the 
Union,  and  the  gallant  Gladden  signalised  his  title  to 
wear  the  blood-stained  mantle  which  had  fallen  from 
the  shoulders  of  Butler.  Numberless  instances  of  per- 


208  ORATIONS. 

sonal  valor  might  be  enumerated  ;  but  I  shall  content 
myself  with  mentioning  one,  which  will  illustrate  the 
spirit,  the  undying  resolution,  that  fired  the  bosoms  of 
all  the  gallant  soldiers  of  our  country  upon  that  memo 
rable  occasion. 

In  one  of  the  storming  parties,  at  the  hill  of  Cha- 
pultepec,  the  banner  of  his  regiment  was  entrusted  to  a 
regular  soldier,  who  pledged  his  word  that  he  never 
would  surrender  it.  Up  through  the  iron  hurricane 
that  decimated  their  ranks  as  they  went,  the  chosen 
stormers  moved,  that  banner  borne  proudly  in  front. 
Suddenly  it  was  seen  to  sink  ;  an  officer  leaped  to  the 
the  side  of  the  standard  bearer  •  a  grape  shot  had  torn 
away  half  his  head,  and  he  had  fallen ;  but  still  his 
hands  were  clenched  to  the  flag  staff,  and  it  was  only 
by  a  desperate  struggle,  and  not  till  death  had  quenched 
all  his  strength,  that  the  standard  could  be  liberated, 
and  borne  onward  to  the  entrenchments.  That  soldier 
passed,  with  the  star  spangled  banner  waving  above  his 
soul,  to  the  battlements  of  heaven  ! 

Ah  !  well  might  Mexican  desperation  make  its 
deadliest  stand  at  the  hill  of  Chapultepec — for  full  in 
sight  lay  the  magnificent  capital,  the  prize  of  the 
victory — and  after  a  few  more  sanguinary  encounters, 
at  the  garitas  of  Belen  and  San  Cosme,  the  American 
army  passed  into  the  plaza  of  Mexico — the  great  bell 
of  the  Cathedral  tolled  the  death  of  a  nation — and  the 
commander-in-chief  of  the  forces  of  the  North  pitched 
his  head  quarters  in  the  vaunted  palace  of  the  Monte- 
zumas  ! 

The  war,  it  may  be  said,  was  now   terminated — 


NATIONAL    WELCOME.  209 

though  many  subsequent  and  guerilla  contests  con 
tinued  the  ineffectual  struggle.  A  peace  was  conquered 
— and  after  some  months  of  negotiation,  a  treaty  of 
amity  and  friendly  relations  was  established.  The 
American  forces  have  been  gradually  retiring  from  the 
country  ;  and  it  is  to  greet  the  return  of  some  who  have 
participated  in  the  noble  achievnments  which  I  have 
so  poorly  portrayed,  that  we  have  assembled  here  to 
day.  In  the  midst  of  the  patriotic  enthusiasm  engend 
ered  by  another  recurrence  of  our  national  aniversary, 
and  with  a  full  appreciation  of  all  their  heroic  per 
formances,  with  hearts  bounding  with  joy  and  pride, 
we  welcome  them  back  to  the  shores  of  the  Union. 
The  glad  waters  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  have  borne  them 
in  triumph,  and  with  seeming  exultation  in  all  its 
waves,  to  our  arms,  and  our  hearts,  and  with  the 
thunder  of  artillery,  the  plaudits  of  millions,  the  Amer 
ican  people  cry  to  them  welcome,  welcome  to  the  land, 
whose  annals  they  have  re-illuminated  with  a  light  and 
beauty  equalled  only  by  our  Eevolutionary  glory. 

Soldiers  of  Mexico,  we  give  you  here,  the  first  greet 
ings  of  the  American  people.  Everywhere  in  your 
progress  through  the  land,  you  will  be  met  by  the 
cheers  and  admiration  of  one  sex,  and  the  smiles  and 
the  love  of  the  other.  While  we  will  drop  with  you 
the  tears  of  profoundest  and  tenderest  sorrow  for  the 
loss  of  those  who  now  sleep  in  soldiers'  graves,  upon 
the  mountain  slopes  and  battle  plains  of  Mexico,  while 
we  shall  long  keep  bright  their  memories  in  the  sanc 
tuaries  of  the  heart,  we  will  yet  extend  to  the  survi 
vors,  our  warmest  gratitude,  our  most  imperishable 


210  ORATIONS. 

admiration.  You  have  given  lessons  and  examples 
which  will  tell  upon  the  destinies  of  our  country ; 
which  have  elevated  her  in  the  estimation  of  all  na 
tions  ;  which,  while  extending  our  dominions  over  ter 
ritories  of  imperial  breadth,  have  proven  our  national 
capacities  for  the  trials  of  war  as  well  as  the  amenities 
of  peace  ;  and  which  have  gone  far  in  accomplishing 
our  great  destiny  of  including  the  whole  North 
American  continent  in  one  mighty  brotherhood  of  free 
and  flourishing  States,  that  shall  ever  stand,  a  Pharos 
of  Freedom,  to  illuminate  and  guide  the  world.  Then, 
Soldiers  of  Mexico,  in  the  light  of  this  national  jubilee, 
welcome  back,  thrice  welcome  to  the  blue  skies,  and 
fertile  fields,  the  happy  homes  and  free  and  peaceful 
institutions,  of  the  Republic  of  North  America  ! 


SKETCHES  AND  ESSAYS. 


THE  PILGRIMAGE  OF  DE  SOTO. 


[This  sketch  was  originally  published  in  1839,  and  was  the  first 
attempt  made  to  locate  definitely  the  route  of  De  Soto,  through  the 
Southwest.  As  all  subsequent  writers  have  followed  its  statements, 
it  is  here  retained  in  its  original  form,  as  the  authentic  basis  of  a 
most  interesting  and  romantic  chapter  of  our  history.] 

THE  history  of  the  Southwestern  States  commences 
at  a  period  antecedent  to  that  of  any  other  portion  of 
the  American  Union.  Long  before  the  Pilgrims  had 
landed  at  Plymouth,  or  the  bold  and  chivalrous  Smith 
had  led  his  followers  into  the  savage  wilds  of  Virginia, 
—Spanish  enterprise  and  prowess  had  over-run  and 
subjugated  the  greater  portion  of  that  territory,  now 
included  within  the  States  of  Georgia,  Alabama, 
Mississippi,  Louisiana,  and  Florida.  Indeed,  it  was 
that  part  of  North  America  which  was  first  discovered 
and  settled  by  European  adventurers.  As  early  as  the 
year  1512,  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon,  a  hardy  and  adven 
turous  cavalier,  who  had  been  a  distinguished  compan 
ion  of  Columbus,  discovered  the  peninsula  of  Florida, 
and  gave  it  that  name  from  the  brilliant  profusion  of 


214  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

flowers,  which  decorated  its  coast.,  and  from  the  day, 
on  which  it  was  discovered  ;  being  the  Pascua  Florida, 
or  Feast  of  Flowers.  The  name  was  subsequently 
applied,  by  the  Spaniards,  to  all  the  Southern  portion 
of  North  America  ;  which  they  claimed,  by  the  right 
of  discovery,  for  the  crown  of  Spain.  Numerous  expe 
ditions  were  made,  within  the  next  ten  years,  for  the 
further  discovery  and  conquest  of  the  country,  which, 
it  was  fondly  dreamed,  abounded  in  wealth  and  magnifi 
cence,  that  would  cast  the  golden  splendors  of  Mexico 
and  Peru,  into  the  shade.  These  expeditions  all 
resulted  unfortunately  for  those  engaged  in  them. 
The  most  extensive  and  disastrous  was  that  of  Pam- 
philo  de  Narvaez,  who,  with  three  hundred  men,  under 
took  the  conquest  of  Florida,  in  1528.  He  landed 
near  the  bay,  then,  as  now,  called  Apalachee,  and 
made  an  expedition  of  eight  hundred  miles  into  the 
interior.  His  route  is  not  known.  At  the  end  of  six 
months  he  returned  to  the  coast,  with  all  his  high 
hopes  of  wealth  and  conquest  shattered  and  gone  ;  his 
ranks  wofully  thinned  by  disease  and  death ;  and  the 
remnant  of  his  forces  in  a  condition  of  most  miserable 
penury,  and  without  vessels  to  convey  them  from  the 
country.  Several  rude  barques  were  constructed,  in 
which  they  put  to  sea,  but  they  were  all  shipwrecked 
in  a  storm  near  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  ;  and  but 
four  ir  dividual?  escaped,  who,  after  long  wanderings 
and  captivity,  for  near  seven  years,  ultimately  reached 
Mexico,  by  land,  to  tell  the  sad  story.  The  accounts 
which  they  gave  of  the  immense  extent  and  magnifi 
cence  of  the  countries,  through  which  they  had  passed, 


THE    PILGRIMAGE    OF    DE    SOTO.  215 

though  partaking  of  the  character  of  the  boldest  fiction, 
were  readily  believed  by  their  countrymen,  whose 
minds  already  regarded  Florida,  as  more  than  a  Land 
of  Promise,  and  as  abounding,  not  only  in  unparalleled 
opulence,  but  in  fountains  of  such  miraculous  virtue, 
as  to  pe'rpetuate  youth,  and  to  restore  old  age  to  its 
primal  vigor  and  bloom. 

Inspired  by  these  incitements,  and  thirsting  for  fame 
and  conquest,  HERNANDO  DE  SOTO,  a  Spanish  cavalier, 
in  the  year  1538,  fitted  put  an  expedition  for  the  con 
quest  of  Florida.  He  was  a  gentleman  of  high  birth 
and  connections,  and  had  enriched  and  distinguished 
himself,  by  a  campaign  in  Peru,  under  Pizarro.  At 
his  request,  Charles  V.  constituted  him  Governor  of 
Cuba,  and  invested  him  with  absolute  power  over  the 
immense  territory  of  Florida,  which  he  undertook  to 
subjugate  at  his  own  expense.  Fitting  out  a  most 
splendid  armament,  in  which  was  invested  all  his  own 
wealth,  and  that  of  his  companions,  many  of  whom 
had  amassed  immense  fortunes  by  previous  enterprises 
in  America,  he  set  sail  from  the  port  of  San  Lucar  of 
Barrimeda,  on  the  6th  of  April — "  as  gaily  as  if  it  had 
been  but  the  holiday  excursion  of  a  bridal  party."  He 
stopped  in  the  island  of  Cuba,  long  enough  to  make 
arrangements  for  its  government,  during  his  absence  ; 
and  then  proceeded  for  Florida,  which  he  reached  in  the 
month  of  May,  1539,  and  anchored  in  a  bay,  which  he 
called  Espiritu  Santo  ;  now  known  as  Tampa  Bay. 
The  number  of  his  forces,  on  landing,  was  six  hundred 
and  twenty  men  ;  two  hundred  and  twenty -three  of 
whom  were  mounted  on  excellent  horses.  These, — 


216  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

many  of  whom  were  cavaliers  of  great  wealth  and  dis 
tinction, — all  partook  of  the  enthusiasm  of  their  leader ; 
and  were  perhaps  as  gallant  and  proud  a  band  of 
soldiers,  as  have  ever  been  collected  together.  They 
were  provided  with  all  the  means  and  muniments  of 
war ;  with  helmets,  bucklers,  corslets,  shields  and 
swords  ;  and  presented  as  gay  and  glittering  a  spectacle 
as  the  eye  could  wish  to  look  upon.  In  addition  to  arms 
of  all  kinds  then  in  use,  everything  was  provided,  that 
the  experience  of  former  campaigns  had  proved  to  be  ser- 
vicable ;  chains  and  manacles  for  captives  ;  ample  stores 
of  provisions  ;  a  large  drove  of  hogs  for  stocking  the 
country ;  tools  of  every  description  ;  bloodhounds  to 
ferret  out  the  inhabitants  ;  and — in  strange  parallel — 
even  the  sacred  emblems  and  implements  of  Christi 
anity,  for  the  purpose  of  diffusing  the  mild  rays  of 
the  Star  of  Bethelem,  amid  the  wilds  of  Paganism. 

On  the  1st  of  June,  De  Soto  commenced  his  march 
into  the  interior.  And  here  begins  an  expedition 
unparalleled  in  the  annals  of  history.  In  the  language 
of  an  eloquent  writer  on  the  subject — "  it  was  poetry 
put  into  action  ;  it  was  the  knight  errantry  of  the  old 
world  carried  into  the  depths  of  the  American  wilder 
ness.  Indeed,  the  personal  adventures, — the  feats  of 
individual  prowess, — the  picturesque  descriptions  of 
steel-clad  cavaliers,  with  lance  and  helm  and  prancing 
steed,  glittering  through  the  wildernesses  of  Florida, 
Georgia,  Alabama,  and  the  prairies  of  the  Far  West, 
would  seem  to  us  mere  fictions  of  romance,  did  they 
not  come  to  us  recorded  in  matter  of  fact  narratives  of 


THE    PILGRIMAGE    OF    DE    SOTO.  217 

cotemporaries,  and  corroborated  by  daily  and  minute 
memoranda  of  eye  witnesses."* 

It  is  with  this  bold  and  chivalrous  expedition  that 
the  HISTORY  OF  ALABAMA  may  be  said  to  commence. 
Apart  from  the  interesting  incidents  of  the  expedition, 
— the  chief  of  which  occurred  within  her  borders, — the 
details  of  the  campaign,  as  given  by  cotemporary  histo 
rians,  tend  to  throw  light  upon  circumstances  and 
customs,  which  would  otherwise  remain  mysteries  ; 
and  serve  to  elucidate,  to  some  extent,  the  situation 
and  character  of  her  aboriginal  inhabitants.  We  shall 
therefore  record,  at  some  length,  the  movements  and 
adventures  of  De  Soto  and  his  companions — particu 
larly  of  that  portion,  which  occurred  within  the  present 
limits  of  the  State  of  Alabama.  Those  which  hap 
pened  within  the  bounds  of  the  other  States,  through 
which  he  passed,  are  more  properly  the  province  of 
their  respective  historians,  and  fall  only  incidentally 
within  the  object  of  these  sketches. 

Before  proceeding  to  narrate  the  particulars  of  this 
expedition,  let  us  say  a  word  concerning  the  sources 
from  which  we  draw  our  information.  Of  the  adven 
tures  of  De  Soto,  there  are  two  authentic  narratives.f 
The  first  is  that  of  a  Portuguese  gentleman,  who  was 
one  of  the  companions  of  De  Soto,  but  whose  name  is 


*  Theodore  Irving's  "  Conquest  of  Florida." 

t  Since  this  sketch  was  written  a  third  narrative  of  this  expedition, 
by  Louis  Hernandez  de  Biedman,  a  companion  of  De  Soto,  has  been 
found  and  published.  It  was  presented  to  the  King  of  Spain,  in  1544. 
and  contains  an  original  report  of  De  Soto  from  Tampa  Bay,  dated 
July  9,  1539.  It  is  very  reliable. 


218  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

not  known.  His  work  was  first  published  at  Evora,  in 
1557.  It  lias  been  frequently  republished  and  trans 
lated  into  different  languages.  The  first  English  edi 
tion  was  published  in  1609,  by  Hakluyt.  To  the  work 
much  faith  was  given  at  the  time  of  its  publication, 
and  it  contains  internal  proofs  of  its  correctness.  The 
other  account  of  this  expedition  was  published  in  1603, 
and  is  denominated  "The  Florida  of  the  Inca,  or  the 
History  of  the  Adelantado,  Hernando  de  Soto,  Gov 
ernor  and  Captain-General  of  the  Kingdom  of  Florida, 
and  of  other  heroic  cavaliers,  Spaniards  and  Indians  : 
written  by  the  Inca  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega."  This  work 
was  originally  published  in  Spanish,  and  has  been  repeat 
edly  translated.  It  is  not  the  production  of  an  eye-wit 
ness,  but  of  a  Spanish  writer  of  undoubted  veracity,  who 
received  his  account  from  three  cavaliers  of  worth  and 
respectability,  who  were  in  the  expedition.  These  two 
works,  though  they  vary  in  many  of  their  details,  yet  suffi 
ciently  corroborate  each  other,  as  to  increase  their  general 
credibility.  They  have  been  relied  on  by  all  subsequent 
historians,  as  fountains  of  truth,  and  Theodore  Irving  has 
collated  a  most  interesting  work  from  their  respective 
narratives.  From  these  sources,  aided  by  the  researches 
of  other  valuable  authors,*  we  shall  draw  the  statements 
we  shall  give.  We  intend  also  to  trace  the  course  of 
De  Soto  through  Alabama,  from  the  knowledge  we 
possess,  ourselves,  of  the  country. 

De  Soto,  as  has  been  stated,  commenced  his  march 

*Belknap's  Amer.  B:ogr.,  v.  1,  p.  185 — 189.  McC Plough's  Re 
searches,  p.  522— 5 '11.  Nuttall's  Arkansas,  247 — 267.  Bancroft's  U. 
S.,  v.  1,  41—59.  Williams'  Florida,  152—170.  Albert  Gallatin's 
8f«o»wis  of  the  Indian  Tribes.  83—120. 


THE    PILGRIMAGE    OF    DE    SOTO.  219 

from  Tampa  Bay,  on  the  1st  of  June,  1539.  He  pro 
ceeded  in  a  Northeast  direction.  His  disposition  was, 
as  much  as  possible,  to  conciliate  the  natives.  But  he 
soon  found  them  true  to  the  spirit  they  exhibit  to  this 
day.  They  impeded  and  harassed  his  march,  by  open 
and  latent  hostilities.  Fortunately,  he  found,  in  one 
of  the  provinces  near  Tampa,  a  Spaniard,  by  name 
Juan  Ortiz,  who  had  been  left  upon  the  coast  by  Nar- 
vaez,  eleven  years  previously,  and  who  had  been  re 
tained  as  a  captive  by  one  of  the  Caciques,  or  Chiefs. 
He  had  learned  the  language  of  the  natives,  and  was 
of  great  service  to  De  Soto,  as  an  interpreter,  through 
out  his  after  wanderings. 

For  several  months,  occasionally  resting,  the  Span 
iards  pursued  the  course  they  had  first  taken.  Their 
route  must  have  been  very  nearly  parallel  with  the 
present  road  from  Tampa  to  Fort  King,  and  not  far 
from  it.  They  found  the  country  intersected  by  in 
numerable  and  extensive  morasses  and  hammocks. 
Through  these  they  fought  their  way,  with  great  diffi 
culties  and  losses.  They  passed  several  large  and 
swollen  streams.  These  were  the  Hillsboro',  the 
Withlacoochee,  and  the  Suwannee.  De  Soto,  finding 
it  impossible  to  conciliate  the  inhabitants,  commenced 
a  war  of  devastation.  He  destroyed  their  fields,  and 
bnrned  many  of  their  towns,  which  were  very  large  ; 
some  of  them  containing  several  hundred  houses.  The 
natives  never  asked  for  quarter,  but  fought  to  the  last 
gasp.  After  proceeding  as  far  North  as  the  present 
Southern  boundary  of  Georgia,  De  Soto  was  induced 
to  direct  his  course  to  the  West,  to  a  province  called 


220  SKETCHES  AND   ESSAYS. 

Apalachee,  by  the  natives.  Here  he  expected  to  find 
large  quantities  of  provisions  and  gold.  In  the  latter 
expectation  he  was  disappointed  ;  but  he  found  the 
country  abounding  in  food  of  every  description,  for  his 
men  and  horses.  It  was  the  most  populous  and 
wealthy  province  he  had  yet  entered.  It  was  situated 
upon  what  is  now  known  as  Apalachee  Bay,  or  the 
Bay  of  St.  Marks.  Here  De  Soto  determined  to  pass 
the  winter,  as  that  season  had  already  set  in.  He  ac 
cordingly  fortified  himself,  and  remained  until  the 
Spring  of  the  ensuing  year.  During  that  time  numer 
ous  exploring  parties  were  sent  out ;  one  of  which  dis 
covered  Ochuse,  the  harbor  of  Pensacola.  A  brigatine 
was  also  constructed,  and  sent  to  Cuba,  with  instruc 
tions  to  return  with  supplies,  the  ensuing  year,  to  the 
harbor  of  Ochuse. 

On  the  3d  of  March,  1540,  De  Soto  broke  up  his 
winter  cantonment  at  Apalachee,  and  proceeded,  in  a 
Northeast  direction,  towards  a  province,  at  a  great 
distance,  called  Cofachiqui,  in  which  he  was  informed 
by  several  captives,  that  there  was  a  large  abundance 
of  gold,  silver,  pearls  and  precious  gems.  These  were 
the  great  objects  of  the  Spaniards  ;  and  they  accord 
ingly  pursued  their  march  with  much  enthusiasm,  con 
tinually  battling  with  the  natives,  and  burning  their 
towns.  They  passed  up  the  banks  of  the  Flint  Kiver  ;* 

*  We  give  the  modern  names  of  these  places  ;  as  they  can  only  be 
learned  from  the  descriptions  of  the  narrators.  The  names  as  used 
by  the  Spaniards  and  natives,  furnish  but  little  clue  to  the  route ; 
that  of  Acliise,  or  Ochis,  a  village,  is  to  this  day  the  Muscogee 
name  of  the  Ocmulgee  River 


THE  PILGRIMAGE   OF   DE   SOTO.  221 

crossed  it  in  Baker  County,  in  Georgia  ;  passed  near 
the  present  sites  of  Macon  and  Milledgeville,  crossing 
the  Ocmulgee  and  Oconee  rivers  ;  and,  after  numerous 
hardships  and  perils,  finally  arrived  at  the  province  of 
Cofachiqui}  which  was  situated  in  the  fork  of  two  large 
rivers.  These  were  most  probably  the  Broad  and 
Savannah  Rivers.0 

Great  was  the  disappointment,  however,  of  the 
Spaniards,  upon  their  arrival  at  Cofachiqui,  in  not 
finding  the  vaunted  treasures,  for  which  they  had  pur 
sued  their  lengthy  and  perilous  march.  The  "  yellow 
metal,"  of  which  they  had  heard  so  much,  proved  to  be 
only  a  worthless  copper  ore  ;  and  although  they  found 
immense  quantities  of  very  valuable  pearls,  yet  these 
little  repaid  their  disappointment.  After  a  long  sojourn 
in  this  province,  for  the  purpose  of  recruiting  the  health 
and  strength  of  his  forces,  De  So  to,  on  the  third  of  May, 
set  out  in  search  of  other  territories,  which  he  hoped 
would  better  gratify  his  cupidity  and  ambition.  The 
direction  of  his  march  was  now  to  the  Northwest,  to 
a  province  called  COSA,  said  to  be  at  the  distance  of 
twelve  days'  journey.  During  the  first  five  days,  they 
passed  over  the  termination  of  the  Apalachian  moun 
tains,  in  Habersham  county,  in  Georgia  ;  and  through 
a  barren  and  miserable  province  called  by  the  natives 
CHALAQUE.  This  is  the  actual  name  now  used  by  the 
Cherokee  Indians  to  designate  their  country.  The  na- 

*  Williams,  in  his  History  of  Florida,  locates  Cofachiqui  (or  Cata- 
.ftcliiqui,  as  he  calls  it.)  upon  the  head  waters  of  the  Chattahoochee 
River,  (p.  160.)  The  statement  in  the  text  is  thought  to  be  more 
correct. 


222  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

tives  were  a  puny,  pacific  race,  and  nearly  naked.  They 
subsisted  principally  on  herbs,  roots,  and  a  species  of 
wild  hen,  which  abounded  in  such  quantities,  that  the 
inhabitants  brought  De  Soto,  seven  hundred,  which 
they  had  killed  with  bows  and  arrows.  After  several 
days'  march  through  a  more  fertile  country,  and  in  a 
western  direction,  the  army  reached  a  small  town  called 
CANASAUGA,*  upon  the  banks  of  a  river,  along  which 
the  Spaniards  had  marched  for  several  days.  Pursuing 
their  route  for  five  days  more  through  a  desert  country, 
on  the  25th  of  June,  they  came  in  sight  of  a  village 
called  CHIAHA. f  This  is  the  first  point  the  Spaniards 
reached  within  the  territory  that  is  now  the  State  of 
Alabama. 

The  village  of  Chiaha  is  said  to  have  been  situated 
upon  the  upper  end  of  an  island,  about  fifteen  miles 
in  length.  There  is  no  such  island  now  in  the  Coosa. 
It  is  probable  that  the  Spaniards  either  mistook  the 
peninsula  formed  by  the  junction  of  two  rivers,  (the 
Coosa  and  Chattooga,)  for  an  island,  or  that  those 
two  rivers  were  originally  united,  so  as  to  form  an  is 
land  near  their  present  confluence.  We  have  heard 
this  latter  supposition  asserted  by  persons  well  ac 
quainted  with  the  country.  There  can  be  little  doubt 
that  Chiaha  was  situated  but  a  short  distance  above 


*  This  is  now  the  name  of  a  small  river,  which  falls  into  the  Eesta- 
nolla,  at  New  Echota.  The  river  referred  to  is  no  doubt  the  Etowah, 
a  branch  of  the  Coosa. 

•*•  Called  by  De  Ve£[a,  Ichiaha.  There  is  now  a  stream  in  Talladega 
County,  called  Chiaha,  or  Potato  Creek.  It  runs  into  the  Chocklocko, 
a  branch  of  the  Coosa.  « 


THE    PILGRIMAGE    OF    DE    SOTO.  223 

the  junction  of  the  Coosa  and  Chattooga  rivers.  Hero 
Do  Soto  remained  for  several  days  ;  making  diligent 
enquiry  for  the  precious  metals.  He  was  informed 
that  there  were  metals  of  a  yellow  color,  found  in  a 
province  about  thirty  miles  to  the  northward.  He 
accordingly  despatched  two  soldiers  to  examine  the 
country.  They  returned,  in  ten  days,  with  the  infor 
mation,  that  it  was  a  barren,  mountainous  region,0  in 
which  no  metals,  but  a  fine  kind  of  copper,  could  be 
found.  While  in  Chiaha,  the  Spaniards  were  pre 
sented  by  the  natives  with  large  quantities  of  pearls, 
many  of  which  were  as  large  as  filberts.  These  the 
natives  obtained  from  a  species  of  oyster,  f  found  in 
the  river,  which  they  opened  by  the  aid  of  fire.  De 
Soto  left  Chiaha,  on  the  2d  of  July,  and  at  sunset, 
came  in  sight  of  a  village  called  Acoste,  situated  on 
the  Southwestern  extremity  of  the  island.  He  en 
camped  his  army  within  a  bow-shot  of  the  village,  and 
^proceeded  with  eight  men  to  visit  the  Cacique  or  Chief. 
He  was  a  bold  warrior,  and  met  De  Soto,  at  the  head  of 
fifteen  hundred  of  his  braves,  drawn  up  in  battle  array, 
painted,  plumed  and  armed.  He  received  De  ^oto 
with  much  courtesy.  While  they  were  in  conversa 
tion,  some  of  the  Spaniards  commenced  pillaging  the 
houses  of  the  Indians  ;  who,  greatly  exasperated,  fell 
upon  them  with  their  clubs.  De  Soto  perceiving  the 
peril  of  his  situation,  with  his  characteristic  intrepidity 

*  This  was  probably  among  the  Lookout  Mountains,  ia  Cherokee 
.County,  Alabama. 

f  Probably  the  muscle,  which  is  said  sometimes  to  contain  fine 
pet.  rl«» . 


224  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

and  presence  of  mind,  immediately  seized  a  club,  and 
commenced  beating  his  own  soldiers.  The  disturbance 
was  soon  quelled — the  conduct  of  De  Soto  convincing 
the  Indians  of  his  amicable  intentions.  The  Cacique 
was  then  persuaded  to  visit  the  encampment,  which  he 
had  no  sooner  reached,  than  he  was  made  prisoner. 
The  next  day,  the  Indians  exhibiting  every  indication 
of  peace,  the  Cacique  was  liberated  ;  and  De  Soto, 
crossing  to  the  east  bank  of  the  Coosa  river,  on  rafts 
and  in  canoes,  proceeded  on  his  march  to  the  South, — 
his  object  being  to  reach  the  Bay  of  Ochuse,  or  Pensa- 
cola,  where  he  expected  reinforcements  and  supplies. 

For  twenty-four  days,  the  army  slowly  pursued  its 
course,  (occasionally  stopping  for  several  days,)  through 
a  populous  and  fertile  province,  called  Cos  A.*  The 
inhabitants  were  invariably  friendly  and  hospitable. 
On  the  approach  of  De  Soto  to  the  principal  town, 
called  also  Cosa,  he  was  met  by  the  Cacique,  borne  in 
a  litter  upon  the  shoulders  of  four  servants,  and  fol 
lowed  by  a  train  of  one  thousand  warriors,  marshaled 
into  companies,  and  gorgeously  arrayed.  He  was  a 
young  man  of  fine  person,  and  noble  countenance. 
Upon  his  head  he  wore  a  diadem  of  brilliant  feathers, 
and  from  his  shoulders  hung  a  mantle  of  martin  skins; 
decorated  with  large  pearls.  The  villagej  was  situ 
ated  upon  the  east  bank  of  a  noble  river  ;  and  con- 


*  This  embraced  the  present  Counties  of  Benton,  Talladega,  Coosa, 
and  Tallapoosa. 

t  McCullough  in  his  Researches,  page  525,  says  this  is  the  village 
called  in  the  maps  "  Old  Coosa,"  in  latitude  33°  30'. 


THE    PILGRIMAGE    OF    DE    SOTO.  225 

tained  five  hundred  spacious  houses.  It  was  well 
stored  with  provisions ;  such  as  maize,  pumpkins, 
beans,  plums  and  grapes.  De  Soto  remained  at  this 
place,  until  the  20th  of  August,  and  then  departed, 
taking  with  him,  the  Cacique,  and  a  large  number  of 
his  warriors  to  bear  his  baggage.  They  passed  through 
villages,  called  Tallimuchasse,  Ulliballi,  and  Toasi, 
and  arrived  at  a  town  called  TALLISE*  on  the  18th  of 
September.  This  was  an  important  Indian  post, 
strongly  fortified  by  pallisades  erected  upon  high  em 
bankments  of  earth.  It  was  situated  in  the  bend  of  a 
rapid  river,  which  surrounded  it  on  three  sides. 

At  Tallise,  which  was  the  Southern  boundary  of 
Cosa,  De  Soto  was  met  by  an  ambassador  from  the 
Cacique  of  the  neighboring  province,  called  TASCA- 
LUZA.f  This  was  the  name  of  the  chieftain  as  well  as 
of  his  kingdom.  He  was  represented  as  the  most 
powerful  of  all  the  Caciques  of  the  country.  His 
fame  reached  De  Soto,  long  before  he  approached  his 
territories  ;  which  included  immense  regions  west  and 
south  of  Cosa.  The  ambassador  was  the  son  of  the 
Cacique,  and  came  attended  by  a  large  train  of  war- 


*  There  is  no  doubt  that  this  town  was  situated  in  the  elbow  of  the 
Tallapoosa  river,  near  the  present  town  of  Tallasse,  in  Tallapoosa 
County.  The  same  name  has  always  been  applied  to  the  spot  by  the 
Indians  ;  and  a  tribe  of  the  Creeks  was  also  known  by  the  same  ap 
pellation. 

t  This  name  is  a  pure  Choctaw  compound-word,  from  Tasca  or 
Tuned,  warrior,  and  Lusa  or  Loosa,  black.  It,  with  several  other 
Words,  proves  that  the  Indians  mentioned  in  the  text,  were  of  the 
same  tribe  as  the  present  Choctaws. 


226  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

riors.  He  was  of  noble  and  imposing  appearance  ; 
taller  than  any  Spaniard  or  Indian  in  the  army  ;  "as 
symmetrical  and  graceful  as  Apollo  ;"  and  of  proud 
and  princely  demeanor.  His  mission  was  one  of  peace  ; 
and  he  invited  De  Soto,  in  the  name  of  his  father,  to 
visit  his  residence.  De  Soto  accordingly  crossed  the 
Tallapoosa  river  in  canoes,  and  on  rafts,  and  marching 
Southwest,  on  the  third  day,  arrived  at  a  small  village 
to  which  Tuscaluza  had  advanced  to  meet  him.  The 
Chieftain  was  posted  on  the  crest  of  a  hill,  com 
manding  a  fine  view  of  the  adjacent  country.  He  was 
seated  upon  a  rude  throne,  and  surrounded  by  a  hun 
dred  of  his  principal  warriors,  decorated  with  gay 
plumes  and  mantles.  By  his  side  stood  a  standard- 
bearer,  sustaining  a  banner  or  target  of  dressed  deer 
skin,  "  quartered  with  black  and  white,  having  a  run- 
die  in  the  midst,  and  set  on  a  small  staff."  This  was 
the  only  military  standard  the  Spaniards  saw  in  their 
wanderings. 

Tuscaluza,  like  his  son,  was  of  noble  appearance, 
and  of  gigantic  proportions,  being  a  foot  and  a  half 
taller  than  any  of  his  warriors.  He  was  said  to  pos 
sess  Herculean  strength.  His  countenance  indicated 
great  ferocity  and  pride  of  spirit.  Upon  none  of  the 
Spaniards  did  he  bestow  the  least  notice,  save  De  Soto. 
He  retained  that  imperturbable  sternness  and  gravity 
so  characteristic  of  "  the  Stoic  of  the  woods  ;"  until 
the  Governor  approached,  and  then  advancing  a  few 
paces,  received  him  with  much  dignity  and  grace. 

In  company  with  the  Cacique,  De  Soto  proceeded 
on  his  march,  towards  one  of  the  principal  villages  of 


THE    PILGRIMAGE    OF    DE  SOTO.  227 

the  province,  called  Tuscaluza.  He  reached  it  after 
three  days7  journey,  of  twelve  miles  each.  It  was 
situated  on  a  peninsula,  formed  by  a  rapid  and  power 
ful  river,  said,  by  the  Indians,  to  be  the  same  that 
passed  by  Tallise.*  The  day  after  their  arrival  the 
Spaniards,  with  the  Cacique,  crossed  the  river  upon 
rafts,  and  proceeded  on  their  march,  towards  a  large 
town  called  MAUViLLE.f  The  country,  through  which 
they  passed,  was  very  populous  and  fertile,  and  on  the 
evening  of  the  third. day's  march,  they  arrived  within 
a  league  of  the  town,  and  encamped  for  the  night. 
Tuscaluza  immediately  despatched  one  of  his  attend 
ants  to  the  town,  for  the  purpose,  he  said,  of  causing 
appropriate  arrangements  to  be  made  for  the  reception 
of  the  army.  Early  next  morning,  De  Soto  sent  two 
confidential  soldiers  ahead,  to  observe  the  movements 
of  the  Indians;  and  to  await  his  arrival.  He  then 
mustered  an  hundred  horse  and  as  many  foot,  as  a 
vanguard,  and  proceeded  with  the  Cacique,  who  was 
retained  as  a  kind  of  hostage,  to  the  village.  The  re 
mainder  of  the  army  was  instructed  to  follow  as  speed 
ily  as  possible,  under  the  command  of  Luis  de  Mos- 
nozo,  the  camp-master  general. 

De  Soto  arrived  at  Mauville,  early  on  the  morning 

*  This  was  the  Alabama :  and  it  is  believed  that  Tuscaluza  was 
situated  near  Evans'  Landing  in  Wilcox  County.  McCullough  says, 
"  there  is  a  ford  on  the  Alabama,  about  sixty  leagues  above  its  con 
fluence  with  the  Tombckbee,  which  the  Choctaws  call  Tascaloussas. 
Here  the  Army  may  have  crossed." — Researches,  page  525. 

t  This  town  is  supposed  to  have  stood  on  the  north  bank  of  the 
Alabama  river,  in  Clarke  County.  The  first  Spanish  settlers  of  Ala 
bama  found  tho  name,  Mam-iVe,  applied  by  the  natives  to  the  present 


228  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

of  the  18th  of  Octoher.  It  was  the  capital  of  the 
kingdom  of  Tuscaluza  ;  and  was  situated  on  the  north 
bank  of  a  magnificent  river.  It  was  completely  en 
circled  by  a  high  wall  formed  of  huge  trunks  of  trees, 
placed  in  the  ground,  side  by  side,  and  fastened  to 
gether  by  large  vines.  There  were  but  two  entrances 
to  the  town,  one  at  the  east  and  the  other  at  the  west. 
The  wall  was  surmounted  by  numerous  towers,  and 
pierced  at  close  intervals  with  port-holes,  from  which 
arrows  might  be  discharged  at  any  enemy.  There  were 
but  eighty  houses  in  the  village,  but  they  were  of  im 
mense  size,  capable  of  containing  one  thousand  persons 
each.  They  were  built  in  the  modern  Indian  style  of 
council-houses,  and  were  erected  around  a  square  in 
the  centre  of  the  village.  De  Soto  had  no  sooner  arrived 
in  the  village,  than  he  was  informed  by  his  spies,  that 
the  Indians  had  collected  in  immense  numbers,  and 
with  very  hostile  appearances.  The  spies  computed 
the  number  of  warriors  in  the  village,  at  more  than  ten 
thousand  ;  all  well  armed.  The  women  and  children 
were  all  removed.  These  facts  convinced  De  Soto,  that 
the  Indians  entertained  hostile  and  treacherous  inten 
tions.  He  secretly  ordered  his  men  to  hold  themselves 
hi  readiness,  and  despatched  a  messenger  to  Moscozo, 
to  hurry  on  with  the  residue  of  the  army.  Tuscaluza 

river  and  bay  of  Mobile.  It  was,  in  consequence,  given  by  the  Span 
iards  and  French,  to  the  natives  themselves  ;  whom  they  called  Mau- 
ville  or  Mobile  Indians.  The  two  words  are  pronounced  the  same  in 
the  Spanish  language;  the  letters  v  and  b  being  often  used  indiffer 
ently  for  each 'other.  See  Du  Pratz,  who,  most  generally,  observes 
the  former  orthography.  The  word  is  spelt  Mavila  by  Biedma,  and 
Manilla  by  the  Portugese. 


THE    PILGRIMAGE    OF    DE  SOTO.  229 

had,  in  the  mean  time,  entered  one  of  the  houses.  He 
was  sent  for,  and  refused  to  return.  An  altercation 
took  place  between  the  messenger  and  an  Indian  chief 
tain,  and,,  the  warrior  was  slain.  The  Indians  now 
became  frantic.  The  warhoop  rang  through  the  vil 
lage.  From  every  dwelling  immense  hordes  of  savages 
poured  forth,  and  rushed  upon  the  Spaniards,  with  the 
fury  of  demons.  De  Soto  rallied  his  forces,  and,  through 
desperate  carnage,  cut  his  way  out  of  the  city.  He 
was  pursued  by  the  Indians,  who  seized  and  slew  some 
of  his  horses,  that  had  been  tethered  outside  of  the 
walls.  Fortunately  at  this  moment  the  main  body  of 
the  forces  under  Moscozo  came  up,  and  the  savages  were 
repulsed,  and  driven  into  the  city.  They  had  seized, 
however,  the  baggage  and  effects  of  the  army,  and  carried 
them  with  them  in  their  retreat,  The  Spaniards  made 
a  desperate  effort  to  storm  the  walls,  but  were  assailed 
with  such  showers  of  arrows  and  stones,  from  the  towers 
and  loop-holes,  as  to  be  compelled  to  retreat.  The  In 
dians  again  sallied  from  the  ramparts,  and  fought  like 
maddened  tigers.  Nothing  but  the  superior  armor  of 
the  Spaniards  saved  them  from  total  annihilation.  At 
length,  by  the  aid  of  their  battle-axes,  they  hewed  open 
the  gates  and  forced  their  way  into  the  village.  The 
battle  now  became  more  desperate  and  bloody.  Hand 
to  hand  the  steel-clad  footmen  fought  with  the  naked 
natives.  The  war-club  and  the  bow  were  feeble 
weapons  in  comparison  with  the  heavy  claymore  and 
tried  battle-axe.  At  the  same  time  the  sturdy  cava- 
.  Hers  made  frightful  lanes  through  the  ranks  of  the  sav 
ages.  Upon  their  trained  horses  they  charged  upon 


230  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

the  confused  hordes,  trampling  and  hewing  them  down, 
and  pursuing  them  from  street  to  street.  The  Indians 
at  length  took  refuge  in  their  houses.  But  their 
hoped-for  safety  proved  their  entire  destruction.  In  a 
moment  their  dwellings  were  wrapped  in  fire.  Many 
of  them  continued  to  fight  from  the  summits  of  their 
houses,  till  they  fell  in,  and  perished  in  the  flames. 
The  others  rushed  forth  with  dreadful  yells,  only  to 
meet  a  no  less  certain  doom  from  the  infuriated  Span 
iards.  Not  one  of  them  asked,  or  would  accept  of 
quarter.  De  Soto  fought  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  and 
was  everywhere  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight.  The 
Chieftain,  Tuscaluza,  perished  in  the  flames  of  his 
dwelling — dying  like  a  warrior;  and  leaving  a  name 
which  deserves  to  be  held  in  perpetual  reverence,  as  that 
of  a  hero,  and  patriot. 

The  battle  lasted  for  nine  hours.  As  the  sun  set, 
his  yellow  rays  fell  upon  the  smoking  ruins  of  the  vil 
lage  ;  its  houses  all  consumed  ;  its  walls  levelled  with 
the  ground.  The  streets  and  the  adjacent  plains  were 
covered  with  the  corpses  of  the  dead.  More  than  five 
thousand  Indians  were  slain  ;  including  those  who 
perished  in  the  flames.  The  Spanish  loss  was  eighty- 
two  killed.  Nearly  every  soldier  in  the  army  was 
wounded, — many  of  them  very  severely.  They  also  lost 
forty- two  horses,  and  all  their  baggage,  and  effects. 
Thus  terminated  the  most  desperate  and  bloody  Indian 
battle,  that  ever  occurred  on  the  soil  of  the  United 
States.* 

*The  two  narratives  of  this  expedition  vary  in  their  estimates  of  the 
nu:ubei%  of  .killed  and   wounded.     De  Vega  says  the  Spaniards  had 


THE  PILGRIMAGE    OF    DE  SOTO.  231 

The  condition  of  the  Spaniards,  after  the  battle  of 
Miiuville,  was  most  deplorable.  So  great  were  their 
sufferings,  that  they  became  heartily  sick  of  their  en 
terprise,  and  desirous  of  proceeding  at  once  to  the  Bay 
of  Ochuse,  or  Pensacola,  which  they  were  informed, 
was  distant  about  one  hundred  miles.  The  resolute 
cupidity  and  stubborn  pride  of  De  Soto  would  however 
yield  to  no  persuasion,  until  he  had  accomplished  the 
objects  for  which  he  had  set  out  in  the  campaign.  He, 
therefore,  with  the  remnant  of  his  army, —  now  reduced 
to  little  more  than  three-fourths  its  original  number, — 
on  the  18th  of  November,  turned  his  steps  to  the  north. 
He  marched  for  five  days  (of  eighteen  miles  each) 
through  a  fertile  but  uninhabited  country,  when  he 
arrived  at  a  village  called  Cabusto,  in  the  province  of 
Pafallaya.  It  was  situated  on  a  wide  and  deep  river, 
with  high  banks.*  The  inhabitants  at  first  exhibited 
hostile  designs,  but  ultimately  fled  across  the  river  in 
their  canoes,  taking  their  property  and  families  with 
them.  Here  their  main  force  of  warriors,  "  to  the 
number  of  eight  thousand,"  was  posted  to  dispute  the 
passage.  They  were  encamped  for  two  leagues  along 
the  opposite  bank.  The  Spaniards  spent  twelve  days 
in  constructing  boats,  and  then  passed  across  the  river. 


eighty-two  killed ;  the  Indians  eleven  thousand.  The  Portugese 
account  gives  eighteen  Spaniards  killed,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty 
wounded  :  the  loss  of  Indians,  twenty-five  hundred.  We  have  adopted 
a  medium  number,  as,  probably,  the  most  correct. 

*Ihis  was  the  Black  Warrior  River  ;  and  it  is  probable  that  Cabusto 
was  near  the  present  Kite  of  Erie,  in  Greene  County. 


232  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

The  Indians,  after  some  severe  skirmishing,  fled  before 
the  army,  which  proceeded  on  its  march. 

After  five  days'  march,  through  a  level  and  fertile 
country,  interspersed  with  small  hamlets,  in  which 
quantities  of  maize  and  dried  pulse  were  found,  the 
Spaniards  arrived  at  another  river,  *  where  the  Indians 
were  collected  to  dispute  the  passage.  Their  courage 
however  soon  evaporated,  and  the  army  crossed  with 
out  opposition.  The  Spaniards  were  now  in  a  province 
called  CHICAZA,  and,  in  a  few  days,  arrived  at  the 
principal  town,  of  the  same  name.  On  each  side  of 
the  town  flowed  a  small  stream,  bordered  by  groves  of 
walnut  and  oak-trees.  It  being  now  the  middle  of 
December,  De  So  to  determined  to  spend  the  winter  at 
this  place,  and  accordingly  took  possession  of  the 
village.  The  Indians  were  enraged,  but  remained 
quiet — "  nursing  their  wrath  to  keep  it  warm."  At 
length,  one  dark  and  windy  night,  when  the  encamp 
ment  was  shrouded  in  sleep,  they  deceived  the  senti 
nels  and  set  fire  to  the  village.  And  now  ensued  a 
conflict  and  conflagration,  second  only  to  that  of 
Mauville.  Many  of  the  Spaniards  were  burned  to 
death  ;  others  were  slain.  They  succeeded  however 
in  repulsing  the  savages,  after  a  desperate  battle  of 
several  hours.  The  loss  of  their  dwellings  caused  them 
to  remove  in  a  few  clays  to  a  more  favorable  position, 
which  they  called  Chjcacilla.  On  the  first  of  April 
the  army  proceeded  to  the  north.  They  soon  came  to 


*  The  Tombecbee. 


THE    PILGRIMAGE    OF    DE  SOTO.  233 

a  powerful  fortress  called  ALIBAMO,*  situated  upon 
the  bank  of  a  small  but  rapid  river,  which  after  much 
hard  fighting  and  carnage,  they  stormed  and  took. 
Marching  northwest  for  several  days,  they  came  to 
the  largest  and  most  magnificent  river  they  had  ever 
seen.  They  consequently  called  it  the  Rio  Grande. 
Its  Indian  name  was  Chicagua.  It  was  the  Missis 
sippi  River,  and  the  Spaniards  were  the  first  Europeans, 
who  beheld  the  Mighty  Monarch  of  Rivers.  They 
crossed  it  near  the  lowest  Chickasaw  Bluff,  not  far 
from  the  thirty-fifth  parallel  of  latitude. 

Beyond  this  point,  it  does  not  fall  within  our 
province,  to  trace  the  nomadic  march  of  De  Soto. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  he  continued  his  wanderings,  for 
near  twelve  months,  through  the  vast  regions  south 
west  of  the  Missouri ;  meeting  with  many  strange  and 
almost  incredible  adventures  ;  suffering:  sreatlv  from 

O      O  i/ 

his  conflicts  with  the  natives,  and  disappointed  in  all 
his  endeavors  to  discover  the  precious  metals.  He 
proceeded  as  far  west  as  the  foot  of  the  Rocky  Mount 
ains.  At  length,  worn  out  by  fatigue,  and  almost 
broken  hearted,  he  returned  to  the  Mississippi.  Here, 
while  making  preparations  to  depart  from  the  country, 
he  was  seized  by  a  malignant  fever,  and  on  the  21st 
of  May,  1542,  died  ;  universally  lamented  by  his  fol 
lowers.  He  was  buried  in  the  channel  of  the  Missis 
sippi  river  ;  receiving,  like  Attila,  a  grave  commen- 


*  This  is  no  doubt  the  original  of  the  word  Alabama. — which  is  .said 
•to  signify,  in  the  Muscogee  tongue — "  Here  we  rest.''1  The  river  on 
which  the  fort  was  situated,  is  thought  to  be  the  Yazoo. 


234  SKETCHES  AND  ESSAYS. 

surate  with  his  career.  The  surviving  Spaniards  made 
an  attempt  under  Luis  de  Moscoso,  whom  De  Soto  had 
appointed  his  successor,  to  reach  Mexico.  They  were 
foiled  in  all  their  efforts,  by  their  ignorance  of  the 
country,  and  after  six  months'  arduous  wandering, 
were  forced  to  return  to  the  Mississippi.  Upon  it 
they  embarked  in  seven  rude  brigantines — descended 
to  its  mouth, — proceeded  along  the  coast, — and,  after 
numerous  perils,  and  sufferings,  reached  the  Spanish 
settlement  of  Panuco,  on  the  10th  of  September, 
1543, — just  four  years  and  two  months  after  their 
landing  at  Tampa  Bay.  Their  number  was  reduced 
to  three  hundred  and  eleven  men,  in  an  almost  naked 
and  famished  condition  ;  their  horses  were  all  lost  ; 
and,  as  for  wealth  and  fame,  they  retained  not  even 
its  shadow. 

With  this  wild  and  romantic  Expedition,  we  have 
said  that  the  History  of  Alabama  begins.  It  is  how 
ever  an  isolated  chapter  in  her  annals.  The  dark  cur 
tain  that  covered  her  territory  was  suddenly  lifted, — a 
brilliant  but  bloody  panorama  passed  across  the 
stage, — and  then  all  was  shrouded  in  primeval  dark 
ness.  A  sufficient  glimpse  was  however  caught,  to 
show  the  condition  and  character  of  the  natives,  and 
to  furnish  some  clue,  when  taken  in  connection  wifh 
other  information,  by  which  to  solve  many  enigmati 
cal  circumstances  connected  with  their  origin,  customs, 
and  history. 


THE  MASSACRE  AT  FORT  MIMS; 

WITH  A  HISTORICAL  SKETCH  OF  THE  FIRST  WHITE 
SETTLEMENTS  IN  ALABAMA,  THE  BATTLE  OF 
BURNT  CORN,  AND  THE  OTHER  EVENTS  THAT  LED 
TO  THE  CREEK  WAR  OF  1813-'14. 


The  Muse  of  History  has  seldom  been  called  to  shed 
her  tears  over  a  more  shocking  and  sanguinary  event 
than  the  massacre  at  Fort  Minis,  on  the  Tensaw  branch 
of  the  Alabama  river,  in  the  summer  of  1813.  For 
the  number  of  its  victims  and  the  hideousness  of  its 
details,  it  was  the  most  frightful  tragedy  ever  enacted 
on  the  soil  of  our  country,  and  forms  the  most  luridly 
illuminated  page  in  backwoods  annals.  At  the  time 
of  its  occurrence,  it  spread  a  thrill  of  horror  through 
the  Union  ;  and  the  excited  fancies  of  the  timid  and 
exposed,  along  the  frontiers,  scarcely  exaggerated  the 
cruelties  which  had  actually  been  perpetrated. 

It  is  strange  that  there  is  no  compendious  and  faith 
ful  narrative  of  this  catastrophe.*  The  only  accounts 

*  Pickett's  "  History  of  Alabama"  has  removed  this  reproach,  since 
this  sketch  was  written — in  1814. 


236  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

of  it  are  meagre  and  superficial,  and  often  erroneous 
and  contradictory.  The  remarkable  character  of  the 
incidents,  and  their  influential  bearing  upon  the 
destiny  of  the  Indians,  and  the  early  history  of  Ala 
bama,  demand  that  this  should  not  continue  to  be  the 
case.  I  shall  therefore  attempt  to  draw  aside  the 
curtain  that  conceals  this  occurrence,  and  let  it  pass; 
in  bloody  panorama,  before  the  eye  of  the  reader. 

It  is  necessary  in  advance,  to  glance  at  the  condition 
of  the  settlements  in  the  interior  of  our  territory  ;  and 
to  take  a  brief  historical  retrospect  of  their  origin  and 
progress. 

The  French,  as  early  as  1699,  had  settled  a  colony 
near  Mobile,  and,  in  a  few  years,  extended  military  and 
trading  establishments  along  the  waters  of  the  Alabama 
and  Tombeckbee.  One  of  these,  called  Fort  Toulouse, 
was  near  the  junction  of  the  Coosa  and  Tallapoosa, 
upon  the  recent  site  of  Fort  Jackson  ;  another,  the  re 
mains  of  which  were  not  long  since  visible,  was  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Cahawba  ;  and  a  third,  called  Fort  Con- 
fecleraicon,  overlooked  the  Tombeckbee,  at  what  is  now 
Jones'  Bluff,  in  Siunter  County.  Fort  St.  Phillipe  also 
stood  at  Twenty-One  Mile  Bluff,  on  the  Alabama. 
The  purpose  of  these  posts  was  mainly  mercantile  ; 
though  priests  were  present  to  inculcate  Christianity, 
nnd  soldiers  to  enforce  submission.  The  sword  diffused 
its  spirit  more  effectually  than  the  cross.  The  native 
tribes  were  kept  in  constant  warfare  with  each  other, 
or  with  their  white  neighbours,  and  yielded  but  few 
and  trivial  commodities  for  commercial  intercourse. 
The  French  settlements  were  consequently  never  pros- 


THE    MASSACRE    AT    FORT    MIMS.  237 

perous.  Their  entire  population  scarcely  ever  exceeded 
two  thousand  persons  ;  and,  in  1763,  they  abandoned 
the  country,  which  passed  successively  into  the  hands 
of  Great  Britain  and  Spain.  These  two  nations  made, 
by  treaties  with  the  natives,  some  slight  acquisitions  of 
soil  in  the  interior,  and,  in  1788,  the  population  of  the 
city  of  Mobile,  then  belonging  to  Spain,  had  increased 
to  1468.  Four  years  after,  there  was  a  strong  Spanish 
post  on  the  Tensaw,  under  the  command  of  Deyveral, 
which  instigated  the  Indians  to  hostilities  against  the 
United  States.  The  other  settlements  were  few  and 
weak  ;  and,  in  a  few  years,  the  Spanish  authority  faded 
entirely  from  the  interior. 

Near  the  close  of  the  last  century,  a  considerable  num 
ber  of  emigrants  had  found  their  way  from  the  States 
of  the  Union,  to  the  vicinity  of  Natchez,  and  to  the 
rich  lands  upon  the  Tombeckbee  and  the  Tensaw,  which 
had  been  ceded  as  we  have  said,  by  the  Indians  to  the 
British  and  Spanish  governments,  and  of  which  our 
own  was  now  the  proprietary.  This  induced  Congress 
to  establish,  by  enactment  of  April  7th,  1798,  the 
"  Mississippi  Territory."  It  included  all  the  country 
between  the  Chatahoochee  on  the  east,  the  Mississippi 
on  the  west,  the  31st  line  of  latitude  on  the  south, 
and  a  parallel  line  drawn  from  the  mouth  of  the  Yazoo 
to  the  Chatahoochee,  on  the  north.  Winthrop  Sar 
gent,  a  native  of  New  England,  was  appointed  Gov 
ernor,  by  President  Adams.  On  the  4th  of  June, 
1800,  he,  by  proclamation,  established  "  Washington 
County,"  including  the  settlements  on  the  Tensaw  and 
the  Tombeckbee.  In  the  next  year,  the  population  of 


238  SKETCHES   AND   ESSAYS. 

these  settlements  was  estimated  at  500  whites  and  250 
blacks,  of  all  ages  and  sexes, — "  thinly  scattered  along 
the  western  banks  of  the  Mobile  and  Tombigby,  for 
more  than  seventy  miles,  and  extending  nearly  twenty- 
five  miles  upon  the  eastern  borders  of  the  Mobile  and 
Alabama/'0 

This  population  continued  to  increase  in  number 
and  extent,  notwithstanding  the  opposition  of  the 
Choctaws,  who  claimed  the  land  west  of  the  Tom- 
beckbee  and  its  tributaries,  and  of  the  Creeks,  who 
asserted  dominion  east  of  th'ose  waters.  A  treaty  was 
however  effected  in  1802,  by  which  the  Choctaws 
yielded  all  their  land  south  of  a  line  from  Hatcha- 
tigby  Bluff  on  the  Tombeckbee,  west  to  the  Choctaw- 
hatchee.  The  increase  of  population  caused  the  estab 
lishment,  of  two  new  counties  :  Baldwin,  north  of 
Washington  ;  and  Clarke,  embracing  the  fork  of  the 
Alabama  and  Tombeckbee.  Several  villages  sprang, 
at  least  nominally,  into  existence.  The  territorial 
legislature  incorporated  St.  Stephens,  Rodney,  Wake- 
field,  and  Dumfries.  The  three  last  perished  "in 
the  bud  ;"  St.  Stephens  was  then  the  seat  of  the  U.  S. 
factory  or  trading-house  under  the  charge  of  George 
S.  Gaines,  and  became  subsequently  the  Capitol  of 
our  own  State.  In  1804,  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Fed 
eral  courts  was  extended  over  the  "Washington 
District,"  and  Henry  Toulmin,  of  St.  Stephens,  was 
appointed  Judge. 

The  population  of  these  settlements  was  principally 

*  American  State  Papers,  vol.  v.,  p.  659. 


THE    MASSACHE    AT    FORT    MIMS.  239 

confined  to  the  western  side  of  the  Tombeckbee  ; 
though  there  were  some  seven  or  eight  hundred  inhabi 
tants  resident  upon  the  Tensaw  and  the  Alabama,  and 
in  the  angle  made  by  the  latter  stream  with  its  western 
tributary.  '.The  boundary  with  the  Creek  or  Muscogee 
Indians  was  not.definitely  settled.  The  pioneers  claimed 
so  much  of  the  land  east  of  the  Tombeckbee  as  had  once 
belonged  to  the  Choctaws.  This  embraced  very  nearly 
all  of  the  present  County  of  Clarke,  and  the  southern 
borders  of  the  Alabama,  as  high  up  as  Claiborne. 
But  the  contiguous  Muscogee.  tribe,  the  Alabamas, 
resisted  this  claim,  and  complained  of  the  encroach 
ments  of  the  whites.  At  the  treaty  at  Fort  Wilkinson 
in  1802,  the  Mad  Wolf  said  "  the  people  of  Tombigby 
have  put  over  their  cattle  in  the  fork,  on  the  Alabama 
hunting  grounds,  and  have  gone  a  great  way  on  our 
lands.  I  want  them  put  back.  We  all  know  they 
are  Americans."  Other  chiefs .  reiterated  complaints, 
and  threatened  to  remove  the  intruders  by  force.*  If 
there  were  grounds  for  such  complaints  thus  early,  it 
may  well  be  believed  that  they  greatly  increased  in  the 
course  of  ten  years.  The  only  thing  that  reconciled 
the  Indians  to  the  inroads  of  the  settlers,  was  the 
facility  afforded  for  traffic.  -The  spirit  of  trade  was 
strong  with  these  simple  people  ;  and,  in  1809,  their 
supplies  of  furs,  peltries,  and  other  produce,  to  the 
factory  at  St.  Stephens,  exceeded  in  value  seven  thou 
sand  dollars. 

Mobile  and  the  territory  between  the  Perdido  and 


*Am.  State  Papers,  v.  C75. 


240  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

the  Mississippi,  south  of  latitude  31°,  though  pur 
chased  by  the  United  States,  in  1803,  as  a  part  of 
Louisiana,  was  fraudulently  held  by  Spain,  as  a  por 
tion  of  West  Florida,  until  1813.  The  ingenuity  of 
Talleyrand  had,  by  equivocal  phraseology,  given  a  color 
to  this  claim  ;  but  at  length  our  government,  wearied 
of  juggling  pretences,  determined,  like  Brennus,  to 
throw  her  sword  into  the  scale.  This  was  authorized 
by  a  secret  Act  of  Congress,  and,  on  the  thirteenth 
of  August,  1813,  General  Wilkinson  forcibly  took  pos 
session  of  Mobile,  and  placed  a  garrison  in  Fort  Char 
lotte,  formerly  Fort  Conde.  A  convenient  avenue 
for  commerce  was  thus  opened  to  the  interior  settle 
ments,  it  having  been  previously  much  restricted  by 
the  Spanish  authorities  at  Mobile.  Before  this,  these 
settlements  were  completely  insulated.  They  were  cut 
off  from  the  white  inhabitants  at  Natchez  and  in  its 
vicinity,  by  a  strip  of  Choctaw  territory.  To  the 
east,  the  Muscqgees  dwelt  as  far  as  the  Oakmulgee, 
and  the  nearest  settlements  to  the  north  were  in  the 
bend  of  the  Tennessee. 

The  character  of  the  settlers  upon  the  Tombeckbee, 
Tensaw,  and  Alabama,  can  be  inferred  from  the  cir 
cumstances  which  surrounded  them.  It  is  not  the 
timid,  the  weak,  or  the  luxury-loving,  who  make  their 
homes  in  the  deep  Avilderness  and  among  savage  tribes. 
The  restless  spirit  in  search  of  adventure  ;  the  indus 
trious  laborer  anxious  to  repair,  upon  new  soil  and 
under  more  propitious  circumstances,  the  fortune  which 
had  become  dilapidated  in  his  old  home  ;  the  hardy 
hunter,  whose  chief  delight  was  to  pursue  the  bear,  the 


THE    MASSACRE    AT    FORT    MIMS.  241 

beaver,  or  the  deer  ;  the  pedlar  in  the  wares  suited  to 
the  simple  taste  of  the  children  of  the  woods  ;  the 
refugee,  for  whatever  motive  of  crime,  injustice,  or 
misanthrophy,  from  the  restrictions  and  associations  of 
better  regulated  communities  ;  these,  and  such  as  these, 
are  always  the  constituents  of  our  frontier  settlements, 
and  composed,  in  the  main,  the  population  we  are  now 
attempting  to  describe.  They  were  emigrants  princi 
pally  from  the  States  of  South  Carolina,  Georgia,  Vir 
ginia,  and  Tennessee.  A  small  admixture  of  French 
and  Spaniards  from  Mobile,  chiefly  Creoles  of  the 
country,  produced  singular  contrasts  among  this  motley 
population.  The  names  of  a  few  of  the  most  promi 
nent  families  who  had  emigrated  to  these  remote 
regions,  from  the  American  States,  are  preserved  by 
their  descendants,  still  in  the  same  vicinage,  or  by 
tradition.  We  may  enumerate  the  following  :  Upon 
the  Tensaw, — the  Halls,  the  Byrnes',  the  Linders,  the 
Steadharns,  the  Hollingers,  the  Easlies,  and  the  Gil- 
creasts  :  Upon  the  Tombeckbee, — the  Bates',  the 
McG-rews,  the  Powells,  the  Calliers,  the  Danbys,  the 
Lawrences,  the  Moungers,  the  Kimbills,  the  Barnetts, 
the  Talleys,  the  Bakers,  the  Hockets,  the  Freelands, 
and  the  Wheats.  *  These  families,  and  others  of 
similar  origin,  were  scattered  over  the  country,  at  dis 
tant  intervals,  generally  engaged  in  agricultural  pur 
suits,  and  in  hunting  the  valuable  game  that  everywhere 
abounded. 

It  is  not  to  be  understood,  from  the  general  sketch- 

*  See  Pickett's  History  of  Alabama. 


242  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

ing  we  have  given,  that  the  moral  condition  of  these 
backwoods  settlements,  during  the  period  we  have 
in  view,  was  either  chaotic  or  debased.  There  were 
many  men  of  integrity  and  intelligence,  and  many 
families  of  social  worth,  among  the  inhabitants.  The 
laws  of  the  territory  were  strictly  oberved  ;  and  even 
an  academy  ."for  promoting  morality  and  virtue" 
among  the  young,  was  located  by  charter,  as  "  Wash 
ington  Academy,"  at  the  town  of  Kodney,  then  the 
Court  House  of  Washington  County. *  But  the  chief 
characteristics  of  these  people  were  the  sterner  virtues. 
They  were  brave,  industrious,  patient,  generous  and 
persevering ;  and  well  qualified,  both  in  moral  and 
physical  capacities,  to  endure  the  hardships  and  dan 
gers  of  their  insulated  position.  These  capacities  were 
soon  called  into  requisition  and  tested  to  their  utmost. 
We  now  propose  to  examine  the  causes  which  led  to 
hostilities  upon  the  part  of  the  Muscogee,  or  Creek  In 
dians,  in  1813,  and  produced  the  dreadful  calamity 
that  befell  the  refugees  at  Fort  Mims. 

In  the  Spring  of  1812,  Tecumseh,  in  furtherance  of 
liis  plan  of  uniting  all  the  aboriginal  tribes  in  a  con 
federacy  against  the  Americans,  visited  the  Muscogee 
Indians.  By  artful  operation  upon  their  superstitions, 
he  succeeded  in  enlisting  the  greater  part  of  the  na 
tion,  particularly  the  towns  on  the  Alabama  waters, 
in  favor  of  his  schemes.  At  Tuckabatchee,  on  the 
Tallapoosa,  he  addressed  the  National  Council.  Sus 
pecting  treachery  upon  the  part  of  the  principal  Chief, 

*  Turner's  Digest  of  Miss.  Stats.,  1816,  p.  55. 


THE   MASSACRE    AT    FORT   MIMS.  243 

the  Big  Warrior,  Tecumseh,  it  is  said,  told  the  Coun 
cil  that,  when  he  returned  home,  he  would  stamp  his 
foot  upon  the  ground,  and  shake  down  all  the  houses 
in  Tuckabatchee.  In  a  few  weeks  the  great  earth 
quakes  of  that  year  occurred,  and  demolished  the  vil 
lage.  The  Indians  immediately  cried  out  "  Tecumseh 
has  arrived  at  home  !"  This,  and  similar  circumstances 
inflamed  the  minds  of  the  Indians  ;  prophets  and 
witches  sprang  up  in  every  town  ;  and  it  was  impossi 
ble  to  restrain  hostilities.  Murders  were  committed  in 
the  nation,  and  upon  the  frontiers.  A  delegation,  un 
der  the  command  of  the  Little  Warrior,  returning  from 
a  visit  to  Tecumseh,  butchered  several  families  in  Ten 
nessee,  and  took  prisoner  a  Mrs.  Crawley,  "  a  modest, 
well-disposed  woman,"  whom  they  carried  to  "  a  very 
old  village,"  at  the  falls  of  the  Black  Warrior.  Here 
it  was  determined  to  put  her  to  death,  and  her  grave 
was  dug ;  but  the  squaw,  in  whose  custody  she  was, 
informed  her  of  the  design,  and  the  night  before  her 
i  u  tended  execution,  she  escaped.  "The  chief  man  of  the 
village  was  disposed  to  be  peaceable,  and  bought  her 
after  her  escape,  and  sent  out  several  of  his  young  men 
to  hunt  for  her,  by  whom  she  was  found,  after  two  or 
three  days,  half-starved  and  half-naked."0  In  the 
meantime  George  S.  Gaines,  of  St.  Stephens,  had 
heard  of  her  captivity,  and  benevolently  despatched 
Tandy  Walker  to  her  relief,  by  whom  she  was  ran 
somed,  and  taken  to  that  place,  whence  she  returned 
to  her  friends  in  Tennessee. 

*  Am.  State  Papers,  v.  814. 


244  SKETCHES   AND   ESSAYS. 

The  Big  Warrior,  and  other  friendly  chiefs  at 
tempted  to  punish  the  perpetrators  of  these  hostilities  ; 
and  several  were  put  to  death.  This  produced  the 
most  violent  enmities  among  the  Indians  themselves. 
Meanwhile,  the  inhabitants  upon  the  Tombeckbee  and 
the  Tensaw  were  in  a  state  of  terrible  suspense  and 
alarm.  Abandoning  their  fields  and  residences,  they 
fortified  themselves  in  hastily  constructed  stockades  ; 
and  watched  the  movements  of  the  enemy.  To  in 
crease  their  apprehensions,  it  became  certain  that 
British  emissaries,  aided  by  the  Spanish  authorities  at 
Pensacola,  were  urging  the  Indians  to  hostility,  and 
supplying  them  with  arms  and  ammunition.  Word 
wTas  brought  that  a  large  party  of  warriors,  under  the 
command  of  Peter  McQueen,  an  influential  half-breed 
chief,  who  resided  at  Tuckabatchee,  on  the  Tallapoosa, 
had,  on  their  way  to  Pensacola  for  supplies,  burnt  the 
house  of  Joseph  Cornells,  the  Government  Interpreter, 
who  had  married  a  white  woman,  and  murdered 
several  of  his  family.  It  was  determined  to  intercept 
this  party,  upon  their  return.  A  force,  amounting  to 
about  three  hundred  persons,  including  white  militia, 
mixed-breeds,  and  friendly  Indians,  was  soon  collected 
and  organized  under  the  command  of  Colonel  James 
Caller,  who  was  mainly  instrumental  in  getting  up 
these  expeditions.  William  McG-rew  was  chosen 
Lieutenant  Colonel,  and  Zackariah  Philips  and  Jour- 
dan,  Majors.  John  Wood  was  appointed  aid-de-camp. 
Among  the  Captains,  were  Samuel  Dale,  Benjamin  S. 
Smoot,  David  Cartwright,  and  Bailey  Heard.  The 
friendly  Creeks  were  headed  by  Dixon  Bailey  and 


THE   MASSACRE   AT   FORT   MIMS.  245 

David  Tait,  educated  and  gallant  half-bloods.  Of 
the  Lieutenants,  Patrick  May,  Girard  W.  Creagh,  and 
William  Bradberry  are  worthy  of  mention.  The 
troops  were  all  mounted  gun-men,  generally  with  their 
favorite  rifles.  They  crossed  the  Alabama  River  at 
Sizemore's  ferry,  some  distance  below  Claiborne,  and, 
marching  rapidly  to  the  southeast,  intercepted  Mc 
Queen's  command,  numbering  about  three  hundred 
and  fifty  warriors,  at  a  ford  upon  Burnt  Corn  Creek, 
now  in  Conecuh  County,  "  where  the  old  furrow-path 
turned  off  to  Pensacola."  The  returning  party  had, 
in  their  possession,  a  large  number  of  arms,  and  "  one 
hundred  horse-loads  of  ammunition,"  which  they  had 
received  from  their  British  and  Spanish  friends.  They 
were  halted  in  a  hill-engirdled  bend  of  the  creek,  near 
a  large  spring,  engaged  in  cooking  dinner,  with  their 
pack-ponies  grazing  around.  Caller's  troops  ap 
proached  so  cautiously,  that  the  main  body  dismounted 
behind  the  hill,  poured  in  a  destructive  fire,  and 
charged,  before  the  Indians  had  fairly  risen  from  the 
ground.  They  were  driven  in  the  wildest  fright  and 
confusion  across  the  stream,  into  a  large  swamp 
or  reed-brake,  and  their  horses,  with  their  valuable 
loads,  were  at  once  seized  by  their  assailants,  who 
were  greedy  for  pillage.  '  This  led  to  a  disastrous  re 
verse.  The  red-men  rallied  in  the  swamp,  opened  a 
heavy  fire,  and  charged  back  with  their  tomahawks 
and  war  clubs,  amid  the  fiercest  cries  for  vengeance. 
Caller,  seeing  the  confused  and  exposed  condition  of 
his  .men,  ordered  a  retreat  to  their  horses,  but  this 
produced  a  panic,  and  a  general  route  ensued.  In 


246  SKETCHES    AND   ESSAYS. 

vain  did  Caller,  Dale,  Bailey  and  Smoot  make  des 
perate  efforts,  by  rallying  small  parties,  to  turn  the 
battle.  A  series  of  charges  and  retreats,  irregular 
skirmishes  and  frequent  close  and  violent  encounters 
of  individuals,  and  scattered  squads,  took  place.  Dale, 
Creagh  and  Bradberry  were  severely  wounded,  and,  af 
ter  a  helter-skelter  contest  of  three  hours,  the  coming 
on  of  night  left  the  tawny  warriors  of  McQueen  vic 
tors  of  the  field,  though  they  paid  most  dearly  for  their 
success,  many  of  them  being  slain,  and  most  of  their 
ammunition  and  supplies  destroyed  or  carried  off,  with 
fcheir  horses,  by  their  fugitive  foes,  who  had  but  two 
killed  and  fifteen  wounded.  The  defeated  troops  fled 
"  fast  and  far,"  all  that  night,  in  scattered  bands, 
through  the  hills  of  Conecuh,  in  constant  dread  of  pur 
suit.  Colonel  Caller  and  his  Aid,  Major  Wood,  es 
caping  on  foot,  became  lost  in  the  wilderness,  for  two 
weeks,  and  nearly  perished  from  hunger.* 

This  engagement,  which  was  denominated  the  Battle 
of  Burnt  Corn,  took  place  in  July,  1813.  It  excited 
the  Indians  to  instant  and  general  hostility.  The 
symbolic  war-clubs,  painted  red,  were  at  once  dispatched 
to  all  parts  of  the  nation,  and  old  chieftains  and  young 
warriors  responded  to  their  call  with  as  great  alacrity 
as  ever  the  Highland  clans  rallied  around  the  cross  of 
Clan  Albin.  Every  friendly  or  hesitating  warrior  was 
compelled  to  join  with  the  hos tiles,  or  to  flee  from  the 
nation.  Weatherford,  as  will  be  seen,  was  thus  forced 
to  take  up  the  tomahawk,  and,  having  once  embarked 

*  Am.  State  Papers,  v.  849,  '51.— Lewis   Sewall's  Poems,  (Mobile, 
1833.) 


THE    MASSACRE    AT    FORT    MIM8.  247 

in  the  contest,  his  masterly  and  imperious  spirit  could 
hold  no  subordinate  position.  It  was  determined  to 
seek  signal  and  summary  revenge  for  the  lives  of  those 
slaughtered  at  Burnt  Corn,  and  to  commence  at  once 
the  general  warfare  of  extermination  against  the  whites. 
For  this  purpose  a  secret  expedition  against  the  Tom- 
beckbee  settlements  was  planned  by  Hillis-hadfo,  or 
Josiah  Francis,  and  Sinquista,  prophets  ;  and  Peter 
McQueen,  Hobohoithlee  Micco,  Jumper,  afterwards 
celebrated  in  Florida,  and  Weatherford,  war-chiefs." 
The  thirteen  towns, — Alabama,  Columa,  Wewauka, 
Ochebofa,  Waukakoya,  Hoithlewaula,  Foosahatchee, 
Ecunhutke,  Savanogga,  Muclausa,  Hookcha-oochee, 
Puckuntallahassee,  and  Pochusa-hatchee,  furnished 
warriors  for  the  expedition.  The  towns  of  Oakfuskee, 
Tallassee,  and  Autossee,  "  formed  a  front  of  observa 
tion,"  towards  Coweta,  on  the  Georgia  border,  to  con 
ceal  the  movement,  and  keep  in  check  the  friendly 
Indians. 

The  warriors  enlisted  were  over  a  thousand  in  num 
ber.  With  this  force,  the  hostile  chiefs  movedstealthily 
to  the  attack  on  Fort  Mims.  This  fort  was  selected 
because  it  was  believed  to  contain  the  body  of  those 
who  had  been  engaged  in  the  Battle  of  Burnt  Corn. 
Before  we  proceed  to  narrate  the  particulars  of  this 
attack,  we  will  revert  to  the  condition  of  the  Settlers, 
and  the  preparations  they  had  made  to  meet  the  hos 
tilities  of  the  Indians. 

Immediately  upon  the  return  of  the  expedition  from 
Burnt  Corn,  the  inhabitants  took  every  measure  in 
their  power  to  increase  and  strenghten  their  fortifica- 


248  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

tions.  Above  tlie  confluence  of  the  rivers,  in  Clarke 
County,  several  picket-posts,  known  as  Forts  White, 
Easley,  Sinquefield,  and  Glass,  were  garrisoned  by  the 
settlers  from  their  vicinities,  and  white  and  half-breed 
refugees  from  the  nation.  These  posts  were  considered, 
from  their  eastern  position,  as  the  most  exposed  of  any, 
and  were  guarded  with  the  utmost  vigilance.  The 
inhabitants  west  of  the  Tombeckbee  felt  fewer  appre 
hensions  of  danger,  but  still  sought  protection  at  St. 
Stephens  and  Fort  Stoddard.  In  the  Tensaw  settle 
ment,  the  fears  of  the  people  were  at  first  greatly  ex 
cited.  Though  their  residences  were  scattered  for  nearly 
eighty  miles  along  the  Alabama  and  the  Tensaw,  yet 
there  was  not  a  fortification,  in  the  whole  extent,  which 
could  be  relied  on  as  a  secure  defence  against  savage 
assault.  To  remedy  this  deficiency,  Samuel  Minis,  an 
old  and  wealthy  inhabitant,  who  had  long  traded  with 
the  Indians,  erected,  with  the  assistance  of  his  neigh 
bors,  a  stockade  fortress  around  his  residence,  which 
was  four  hundred  yards  from  "Lake  Tensaw/'  a  bay 
or  tributary  of  the  Alabama,  that  extends  eastward 
one  mile  from  the  river.  This  was  about  two  miles 
southeast  from  the  "  Cut-Off,"  and  about  sixty  from 
Mobile.  The  site  of  the  fortress  was  in  a  level  field  or 
"  clearing,"  of  six  or  eight  acres,  intersected  by  a  small 
branch  or  creek,  which  discharges  itself  into  the  Lake. 
A  thick  growth  of  cane  and  some  woods  extended  along 
this  stream,  and  between  the  fort  and  the  lake.  The 
walls  of  the  fortress,  which  were  originally  square,  and 
enclosed  an  acre  of  ground,  were  formed  in  the  ordinary 
picket-fashion  of  our  frontiers,  by  the  trunks  of  small 


THE    MASSACRE    AT    FOBT    MIMS.  249 

pine  trees,  about  fifteen  feet  in  length,  being  planted  in 
a  ditch  about  the  enclosure,  and  fastened  together  at 
the  top  by  horizontal  strips  or  braces  of  smaller  tim 
ber.  They  were  pierced,  about  breast-high,  with  port 
holes  for  rifles  and  muskets,  but  with  no  provision  for 
the  use  of  artillery,  as  the  garrison  possessed  none.  At 
the  southwest  corner  there  was  a  rude  block-house  and 
bastion.  The  enclosure  contained,  besides  Minis'  frame 
dwelling  and  log  out-houses,  ten  or  twelve  rude  cabins 
and  shelters,  erected  by  the  refugees  and  soldiers. 
There  were  two  gates  to  the  fortress,  but  the  one  on 
the  west  was  permanently  closed.  The  eastern  one 
was  eight  feet  wide,  and  formed  of  large  and  cumbrous 
pieces  of  timber.  Fifty  feet  inside  of  this  gate,  a  line 
of  old  pickets  stood — the  fort  having  been  extended  to 
the  east. 

Such  was  Fort  Minis,  the  main  defence  of  the 
settlers  southeast  of  the  Alabama  ;  and  to  it,  upon  the 
approach  of  danger,  they  fled  with  their  families. 
The  intestine  hostilities  also  expelled  the  half-breeds 
and  other  friendly  warriors  from  the  nation,  and  they 
took  refuge  with  their  wives  and  children  in  this  newly 
erected  fortification.  The  number  of  occupants  was, 
consequently,  very  considerable ;  but  it  was  still  farther 
swelled  by  the  addition  of  sixteen  men,  under  Lieuten 
ant  Oshorne,  and  three  companies  of  Mississippi  Volun 
teers,  commanded  respectively  by  Captains  Middleton, 
Jack,  and  Batchelor, — comprising  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five  men,  all  under  Major  Daniel  Beasley.  The 
other  men  in  the  fort  capable  of  bearing  arms,  including 
the  friendly  half-breeds  and  Indians,  were  seventy  in 


250  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

number,  commanded  by  Dixon  Bailey,  so  distinguished 
at  Burnt  Corn.  The  effective  military  force  thus 
amounted  to  two  hundred  and  forty-five.  Besides 
these  there  were  three  hundred  women  and  children, 
making  an  aggregate  of  near  five  hundred  and  fifty 
souls  crowded  into  this  narrow  fortification. 

At  the  first  burst  of  alarm,  the  garrison  in  Fort 
Mims  were  properly  vigilant  and  cautious  ;  but  they 
soon  became  singularly  inattentive  to  the  defences  of 
the  place.  The  officer  in  command  seems  to  have 
been  a  vain,  rash,  inexperienced,  and  over-confident 
soldier, — though  unflinchingly  brave  when  in  the 
presence  of  the  foe.  In  the  latter  part  of  August, 
General  Ferdinand  L.  Claiborne,  commanding  the 
forces  raised  in  Western  Mississippi,  visited  the 
post,  cautioned  its  possessors  against  a  surprise,  and 
advised  the  construction  of  two  additional  block 
houses.  These  warnings  he  repeated  by  letter  even 
the  day  before  the  attack.  But  a  strange  fatuity 
appears  to  have  befallen  the  garrison.  They  were 
satisfied  that  the  Indians  did  not  contemplate  an 
attack  upon  the  fort,  but  were  directing  their  hostili 
ties  to  the  Georgia  frontier.  In  vain  did  several  oi 
the  most  experienced  and  cautious  of  the  backwoods 
men  give  warning  of  impending  danger :  in  vain  even 
did  a  hostile  warrior,  the  very  evening  before,  apprise 
some  of  his  relatives  in  the  fortress,  of  the  intended 
attack  :  in  vain  did  two  negroes  declare  that  they  had 
seen  twenty  warriors  painted  for  battle,  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  fort :  Major  Beasley  would  listen  to  no  remon 
strance,  but  steadily  refused  to  keep  the  gate  of  the 


THE    MASSACRE    AT    FORT    MIMS.  251 

fortress  shut,  and  permitted  the  inmates  to  wander 
unrestrained  along  the  banks  of  the  Lake.  He  seemed 
to  have  been  actuated  by  a  spirit  of  vain  bravado^,  and 
criminal  self-complacency.  How  forcibly  does  his 
conduct  remind  us  of  the  Roman  adage,  "  whom  the 
gods  intend  to  destroy,  they  first  make  mad!" 

Such  was  the  condition  of  things  at  Fort  Mims,  on 
the  morning  of  the  30th  of  August.  The  sun  rose, 
beautiful  and  with  a  dewy  coolness,  over  the  forests 
of  needle-leaved  pines  that  extended  off  to  the  east, 
and  concealed  beneath  their  high  and  shafted  arcades, 
the  grimly-painted  and  fast-approaching  warriors  of 
Weatherford  and  McQueen.  In  the  fort  all  was  con 
fidence  and  hilarity.  The  women  and  children  were 
scattered  in  idle  groups  around  the  block-houses,  and 
in  front  of  their  tents  and  sheds  :  "  the  men  were  seated 
in  two  circles  in  the  yard,  talking  what  they  would  do 
if  Indians  should  come  ;"*  and  Major  Beasley,  with  a 
party  of  his  officers,  was  engaged  in  a  game  of  cards, 
and  had  just  ordered  a  negro  to  be  whipped  for  giving 
a  "  false  alarm  ;"  when,  a  little  before  noon,  the  sim 
ultaneous  sounds  of  the  rifle  and  war-hoop  were  heard, 
and  a  large  body  of  warriors  was  discovered  within  a 
short  distance  of  the  fort,  rushing  for  its  entrance.  A 
few  of  them  passed  the  gate  before  Beasley  could  rally 
his  men  ;  but  he  soon  collected  a  sufficient  force  to 
slay  the  intruders,  and  a  bloody  and  doubtful  contest 
ensued  for  the  mastery  of  the  passage.  Its  narrowness 
limited  the  number  of  the  assailants,  but  they  rushed 

*  Col.  Hawkins. 


252  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

desperately  forward,  and  with  their  war-clubs,  toma 
hawks  and  scalping-knives,  grappled,  hand  to  hand, 
with  the  defenders.  The  carnage  was  terrible  on  both 
sides.  Major  Beasley  and  his  officers  here  almost  re 
deemed  their  former  criminal  neglect.  They  resolutely 
bore  the  brunt  of  the  conflict  ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  em 
phatic  remark  that  every  officer  fell  fighting  at  the 
gate.  Beasley  was  shot  through  the  body,  and  died 
like  a  hero,  cheering  his  men.  A  Lieutenant  fell  from 
the  loss  of  blood,  and  was  borne  to  a  block-house  by 
two  women,  but,  reviving  from  his  faintness,  he  insisted 
upon  being  carried  back  to  the  gate,  which  was  done 
by  the  same  heroines,  and  he  died  by  the  side  of  his 
companions.  After  half  an  hour's  struggle,  the  gar 
rison  succeeded  in  shutting  the  gate,  which,  singularly 
enough,  had  remained  open  so  long  that  its  closure 
was  greatly  impeded  by  sand  and  rubbish. 

The  party  thus  repelled  were  two  hundred  in  num 
ber,  and  constituted  but  an  advance  body  of  the 
Indians.  The  main  force  under  Weatherford,  eight 
hundred  strong,  now  came  up,  and  the  attack  was 
renewed,  under  the  directions  of  that  chief,  with  an 
unremitting  discharge  of  bullets  and  arrows  on  every 
side  of  the  fort.  The  garrison  had  been  hurriedly 
formed  for  the  defence  as  follows  :  on  the  eastern 
front,  embracing  the  gate,  Captain  Middleton's  com 
mand  ;  on  the  south,  Captain  Jack's  ;  on  the  west, 
Lieutenant  Kandon's,  and  on  the  north,  Captain  Dixon 
Bailey's.  The  soldiers  all  fought  with  the  utmost 
desperation.  Even  the  women,  seizing  muskets  and 
rifles,  placed  themselves  at  the  port-holes  and  heroically 


THE    MASSACRE    AT    FORT    MIMS.  253 

returned  the  fire  of  the  assailants.  The  policy  of  the 
latter,  however,  was  to  carry  the  place  by  storm,  and, 
seizing  the  rails  from  some  adjacent  fences,  they  rushed 
forward,  stopped  many  of  the  port-holes,  and  com 
menced  cutting  down  the  pickets,  with  their  axes. 
They  soon  broke  through  the  outer  line  of  pickets  on 
the  east,  and  then  gained  the  mastery  of  most  of  the 
port-holes  of  the  inner  one,  and  poured  their  fire  into 
the  centre  of  the  fort.  The  pickets  now  yielded  at 
several  points  on  the  other  sides,  and  the  savages  in 
overwhelming  numbers  rushed  in  among  the  defenders. 
Such  of  these,  as  were  not  slain,  took  refuge  in  the 
houses,  and  fought  from  the  windows  and  through  holes 
forced  through  their  roofs.  But  the  Indians  had,  with 
flaming  arrows,  at  the  outset,  set  these  on  fire,  and 
they  were  soon  wrapped  in  a  general  conflagration. 

The  scene  that  ensued  baffles  description.  Notwith 
standing  their  awful  position,  the  besieged  continued 
to  fire  their  guns,  through  the  flames,  upon  the  sava 
ges.  At  length,  as  the  roofs  fell  in,  many  rushed  from 
the  buildings,  and  attempted  to  escape  or  implored 
mercy,  but  were  immolated  without  distinction  of  age 
or  sex.  A  few  negroes  and  some  women  of  the  half- 
blood  were  alone  spared.  But  seventeen,  of  the  five 
hundred  and  fifty  occupants  of  Fort  Minis,  escaped  to 
narrate  the  dreadful  tragedy  ! 

The  loss  of  the  Indians,  during  the  day,  was  very 
great.  Not  less  than  fifty  warriors,  including  five 
prophets,  were  slain  in  the  first  assault  upon  the  gate, 
and  more  than  three  hundred  fell  in  the  subsequent 
contest. 


254  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

Colonel  Hawkins,  the  Indian  agent,  gives  us,  in  his 
letters,  some  of  the  details  of  this  horrible  transaction, 
which  he  received  from  a  negro  taken  prisoner  at  the 
time  :  ."  He  said  he  was  in  Minis'  house,  when  it  was 
taken  and  destroyed.  An  Indian,  seeing  him  in  the 
corner,  said,  '  Come  out ;  the  Master  of  Breath  has 
ordered  us  not  to  kill  any  but  white  people  and  half- 
breeds/  An  Indian  woman,  who  was  in  the  house,  was 
ordered  out,  and  to  go  home.  Dixon  Bailey's  sister, 
a  half-breed,  was  asked  what  family  (white  or  red)  she 
was  of  ?  She  answered,  pointing  to  her  brother,  '  I 
am  the  sister  to  that  great  man  you  have  murdered 
there  :'  upon  which  they  knocked  her  down,  cut  her 
open,  strewed  her  entrails  around.  They  threw  several 
dead  bodies  into  the  fire,  and  some  that  were  wounded. 
....  There  was  much  silver  money  in  the  houses, 
melted  and  run  about,  and  some  dollars  blackened 

only Among  the  killed  are  McGirth,  Jones, 

McCarty,  Sam  Smith,  Dixon  Bailey,  his  two  brothers, 
Minis  and  his  family,  Captain  Melton,  John  Eandall 
and  all  his  family,  except  Peter  Durant,  and  one  of  his 
daughters.  .  .  .  McGirth's  wife,  and  Jones7  wife,  and 
all  their  children,  except  one  of  McGrirth's,  killed  in 
the  fort,  were  taken,  with  the  reporter,  prisoners  to  the 
nation.  ...  A  daughter  of  Mr.  Cornells  told  him  to 
make  his  escape,  and  tell  what  the  Indians  had  done. 
.  .  .  Mrs.  McGirth,  on  her  way  to  the  nation  was 
excessively  distressed,  and  cried  out  aloud  upon  being 
threatened  by  some  of  the  warriors  that  they  would  put 
her  to  death.  She  urged  them  to  do  it,  as,  in  the 
situation  of  her  family,  she  wished  to  die.  She  and 


THE   MASSACRE    AT   FORT   MIMS.  255 

MI\S.  Jonos,  with  their  families,  were  sent  to  Wewoka. 
.  .  .  After  the  battle,  the  Indians  encamped  about  a 
mile  from  the  fort,  until  next  day,  twelve  o'clock, 
during  which  time  they  were  busy  hunting  negroes, 
horses  and  cattle,  and  brought  off  a  great  many." 

The  names  of  all  who  so  miraculously  escaped  from 
this  great  massacre,  are  not  now  known,  but  the  fol 
lowing  list  of  most  of  them  has  been  furnished  me,  on 
the  authority  of  two  of  the  survivors  :  Dr.  Thomas 
G.  Holmes,  since  of  Baldwin  County,  Alabama ; 
Lieutenant  W.  B.  Chambliss,  of  the  Mississippi  Vol 
unteers  ;  Lieutenant  Peter  Randon,  of  the  Tensaw 
miiitia  ;  Jesse  Steadham  and  his  brother  Edward, 
afterwards  citizens  of  Baldwin  County ;  Martin  Rigdon, 
Josiah  Fletcher,  John  Hoven,  Joseph  Perry,  James 
Bealle,  and  Jones,  Matthews,  and  Morris,  whose  given 
names  are  not  remembered.  Several  others  are  named 
in  Hawkins'  letter  just  quoted.  Sam  Smith  a  half- 
breed,  whom  he  names  as  killed,  also  escaped.  Most 
of  those  who  escaped,  did  so  by  pushing  through  the 
fallen  pickets  at  the  least  exposed  points,  and  rushing 
through  the  confused  lines  of  the  Indians,  to  the  adja 
cent  reed-brake,  and  'thence  to  the  Alabama  River, 
which  they  swam,  and,  after  innumerable  hardships, 
reached  Fort  Stoddart,  at  Mount  Vernon.  Many  of 
them  were  severely  wounded. 

Numerous  anecdotes  live  in  tradition  of  the  heroism 
exhibited  in  the  defence  of  this  devoted  fortress.  The 
fate  of  the  chivalrous  Dixon  Bailey  wears  a  romantic 
hue  becoming  the  character  of  the  man.  He  was  the 
main  hope  and  reliance  of  his  associates  during  tl  o 


256  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

terrible  conflict,  and  he  cheered  them  by  his  voice  and 
daring  deeds  till  the  very  last  moment.  After  the 
pickets  were  forced,  he  fought  gallantly  from  amid  the 
flames  of  Minis'  house,  surrounded  by  women  and 
children,  but  as  the  roof  fell  in,  he  snatched  up  his 
youngest  child,  a  boy  of  three  or  four  years,  leaped  out 
of  a  back  door,  dashed  unexpectedly  through  the  foes 
at  that  quarter,  and  fled  beyond  the  smoking  limits  of 
the  fort.  Many  guns  were  fired  at  him,  and,  being 
wounded  in  several  places,  he  was  compelled  to  retreat 
slowly,  but  he  kept  in  check  three  or  four  warriors 
who  pursued  him,  by  presnting  towards  them  his  for 
midable  rifle.  The  Indians,  flushed  with  victims,  and 
more  intent  upon  booty  than  solitary  slaughter,  did 
not  pursue  far  this  forest  Kolla,  and  he  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  neighboring  swamp,  with  his  child. 

'  The  flight  of  Dixon  Bailey  was  witnessed  by  another 
fugitive  from  the  fort,  who  communicated  the  fact  to 
his  friends  ;  but  as  nothing  was  heard  from  him,  his 
fate  remained  long  a  subject  of  painful  conjecture. 
After  the  lapse  of  several  years,  however,  by  the  side 
of  a  small  stream,  not  far  from  the  fort,  were  discov 
ered  the  skeletons  of  a  man  and  child  ;  and  a  gun 
firmly  planted  in  the  soft  earth  bore  the  name  of  DIXON 
BAILEY.  He  had  died,  it  was  supposed,  of  his  wounds, 
and  the  child  had  perished  of  hunger,  by  the  side  of  its 
dead  father  ;  or,  perhaps,  had  been  slain  in  his  arras.* 

*  For  this  interesting  tradition  I  am  indebted  to  the  MSS.  of  Mrs 
Maria  Boykin,  formerly  the  accomplished  wife  of  Col.  B.  Boykin  of 
Mobile.  She  had  made  many  interesting  collections  as  to  the  History 
of  Alabama,  but  unfortunately  died  before  she  had  finiiShed  them  for 
publication. 


THE    MASSACRE    AT    FORT    MIMS.  257 

We  might  mention  other  anecdotes  connected  with 
this  massacre,  but  the  reader  has  already  "supped  full 
of  horrors/'  and  we  hasten  to  conclude  our  sketch. 
The  bodies  of  the  slain,  on  this  occasion,  both  Indians 
and  whites,  were  never  buried,  and  long  afterwards,  so 
great  had  been  the  carnage,  the  fields  contiguous  to 
the  fort  were  white  with  human  bones,  bleaching 
under  the  influence  of  the  seasons.  The  disaster 
terminated  the  settlements  east  of  the  Tensaw,  and 
they  were  not  resumed  until  the  conclusion  of  the 
war.  Upon  their  return  homewards,  the  Indians 
sent  out  a  detachment  of  one  hundred  warriors,  under 
the  prophet  Francis,  which  attacked  one  of  the  forts 
in  the  fork  of  the  Alabama  and  Tonibeckbee,  but  was 
repulsed  with  a  loss  of  five  killed.  The  Indians  then 
returned  to  the  nation,  mourning  in  plaintive  songs 
their  warriors  who  had  been  slain,  but  rejoicing  more 
loudly  over  the  many  scalps  they  had  brought  back, 
and  the  unprecedented,  butchery  they  had  achieved. 
Well  might  they,  in  their  darkened  barbarism,  imagine 
that  the  complete  destruction,  of  the  White  Man,  so 
positively  promised  by  their  prophets,  had  already  been 
begun,  and  soon  would  be  accomplished.  Little  did 
they  see,  in  the  future,  the  dreadful  retribution  to  be 
brought  upon  their  country,  by  Claiborne,  and  Floyd 
and  Jackson.  Their  boasted  massacre  itself  became 
a  watchword  and  an  impulse  to  devastating  armies, 
and  it  was  resolutely  determined  by  each  of  those 
generals,  that  no  warrior,  whose  participation  in  the 
carnage  at  Fort  Minis  could  be  proven,  should  be 
permitted  to  escape  with  his  life.  The  commencement, 


258  SKETCHES    AND   ESSAYS. 

progress,  and  termination  of  the  war,  viewed  in  this 
relation,  develope  a  spirit  riot  unlike  the  sullen  desti 
nies  of  the  Greek  tragedy,  and  partake  of  an  interest 
but  little  subordinate  to  the  melancholy  stateliness  01 
the  (Edipus,  or  the  Medea. 


SKETCH  OF  WEATHERFORD, 

OR    THE 

RED     E  A  G-  L  E  , 

THE  GREAT  CHIEF  OF  THE  CREEKS  IN  THE  WAR 
AGAINST  GENERAL  JACKSON  ;  WITH  INCIDENTAL 
ACCOUNTS  OF  MANY  OF  THE  LEADING  CHIEFS  AND 
WARRIORS  OF  THE  MUSCOGEE  INDIANS. 


"  Shall  not  one  line  lament  the  lion  race, 
For  us  struck  out  from  sweet  creation's  face 7" 

CHARLES  SPRAGUE. 

THE  heroic  and  exalted  character  once  generally  at 
tributed  to  the  aborigines  of  our  country,  has  come  to 
be  regarded  as  an  overwrought  fable.  The  singular 
manners  and  picturesque  costumes  which  these  strange 
people  first  presented  to  European  eyes,  their  novel 
modes  of  life,  the  vast  forests  through  which  they 
roamed  in  quest  of  game  or  war,  their  courage,  hardi 
hood  and  unrestrained  freedom,  produced  upon  excited 
fancies  an  over-estimate  of  the  happiness  and  virtues 
of  their  condition.  Voyagers  and  travelers,  who  had 
seen  but  little  of  their  actual  character  and  habits, 


260  SKETCHES  AND  ESSAYS. 

vied  with  each  other  in  depicting  them  as  a  primitive 
people,  existing  in  Arcadian  comfort,  possessing  few  of 
the  vices  of  civilization,  and  retaining  the  traits  and 
qualities  of  an  almost  unfallen  nature.  This  error  was 
extended  by  the  virtues  and  romantic  adventures  of  a 
few  of  the  children  of  the  woods,  a  Pocahontas  or  a 
Philip  of  Pokanoket,  who  were  erroneously  taken  as 
specimens  of  their  entire  race.  Poetry  and  fiction  lent 
their  embellishments  to  conceal  the  truth,  and  the 
pleasant  fancies  of  Chateaubriand,  Kousseau,  and 
Campbell,  were  received  by  the  world  as  faithful  por 
traitures  of  the  virtues,  circumstances,  and  sentiments 
of  the  American  Indian, — "the  stoic  of  the  woods, 
the  man  without  a  tear/' 

Observation  and  experience  at  length  dissipated  these 
errors.  The  American  Indian  was  found  to  be  wha.t 
enlightened  reason  would  expect  from  his  circumstances. 
Although  he  possessed  many  of  the  hardier  traits  of 
character,  such  as  we  may  properly  call  the  physical 
virtues,  yet  he  was  entirely  destitute  of  those  excel 
lencies  of  feeling  and  condition  which  give  symmetry 
and  loveliness  to  life.  Ignorant,  superstitious,  cruel, 
bestial  and  obscene,  the  victim  of  strong  and  degraded 
passions,  and  a  houseless  wanderer,  exposed  to  the  in- 
c]emencies  of  the  seasons  and  the  trials  of  want,  he  pre 
sented,  in  the  main,  none  of  the  better  beauties  of 
humanity,  and  certainly  no  illustration  of  that  wild 
whim  of  the  philosopher  of  Clarens, — the  perfection  of 
the  savage  state,  and  the  moral  healthfulness  of  bar 
barism  !  More  than  this,  the  Indian  has  proved  himself 
unsusceptible  of  civilization,  and  unfitted,  by  the  in- 


WEATHERFORD,    OR   THE    RED    EAGLE.  261 

stincts  of  his  nature,  for  the  higher,  or  even  the  lower, 
degrees  of  intellectual  and  social  culture. 

Though  such  is  the  general  character  of  the  aborigines 
of  this  country,  yet  it  may  not  be  denied  that,  in  fre 
quent  instances,  there  have  been  manifestations  among 
them  of  the  nobler  properties  of  mind  and  heart.  Some 
of  their  warriors  have  exhibited  a  military  spirit  and 
genius  unsurpassed  in  the  annals  of  civilized  warfare. 
Philip  of  Mount  Hope,  and  Pontiac  wanted  but  a  fair 
field  and  auspicious  circumstances,  to  have  accomplished 
careers  as  brilliant  as  that  which  extended  from  Aus- 
terlitz  to  Waterloo.  Combined  with  this  capacity, 
other  chieftains  have  wielded  an  influence  over  the 
judgments  and  passions  of  men,  by  the  power  of  their 
eloquence,  which  must  ever  command  our  admiration. 
Who  has  not  felt  the  deep  pathos  of  the  complaint  of 
Logan  ?  It  is  difficult  to  award  Tecumseh  the  higher 
place  as  an  orator  or  a  warrior  ;  and  the  eloquence  of 
Piamingo  never  failed  of  its  purpose,  whether  urging 
his  red  followers  to  the  battle,  or  censuring  the  white 
man  for  unjust  encroachments  upon  the  territories  of 
the  Chickasaw. 

These  enumerations  might  be  extended,  but  we  prefer 
passing  at  once  to  the  subject  of  the  present  sketch  ; 
a  chieftain,  who,  though  comparatively  little  known, 
comprised  in  his  character  the  elements  of  the  warrior 
and  the  statesman,  as  fully  as  any  other  native  hero, 
and,  for  the  elevation  and  effectiveness  of  his  eloquence, 
certainly  surpassed  all  aboriginal  competition.  In  ad 
dition  to  this,  his  career  was  marked  by  a  romantic 
interest  little  inferior  to  the  incidents  of  wildest  fiction, 


262  SKETCHES   AND   ESSAYS. 

and  his  character  partook  of  a  spirit  of  rude  chivalry, 
as  singular  and  fascinating,  as  the  circumstances,  amid 
which  it  was  developed,  were  unpropitious  and  repul 
sive.  We  know  no  finer  instance  in  Indian  history,  of 
genius,  heroism,  and  eloquence  united ;  and,  about  the 
events,  which  brought  these  qualities  into  action,  there 
were  a  consecutiveness  of  arrangement  and  a  species  of 
retributive  operation,  Avhich  give  to  the  whole  an  epic 
or  dramatic  semblance  and  coloring  very  rare  in  actual 
occurrences.  It  is  true,  that  the  character  of  this  Mus- 
cogee  Chieftain  was  marked  by  other  and  opposite 
qualities  ;  by  cruelty,  superstition,  and  the  common 
Tices  of  his  time  and  people,  yet  they  do  not  diminish, 
but  rather  heighten,  the  effect  which  a  faithful  narra 
tive  of  his  life  and  adventures  is  calculated  to  produce. 
It  is  exceedingly  difficult,  however,  to  procure  the 
materials  for  such  a  narrative.  Little  attention  has  ever 
been  given  to  the  history  of  the  Muscogee  Indians ;  and 
he  who  would  understand  the  character  and  career  of 
their  principal  Chieftain, — a  warrior  whose  name,  forty 
years  ago,  diffused  terror  along  the  whole  Southwestern 
frontier, — is  compelled  to  be  content  with  meagre  and 
incidental  allusions,  in  a  few  scattered  volumes  and 
old  newspapers,  or  with  the  exaggerated  and  contra 
dictory  accounts  of  fast-fading  tradition.  There  is 
not,  to  my  knowledge,  anything  like  a  biographical 
sketch  of  Weatherford.  This  deficiency  I  propose  to 
supply,  as  a  subject  of  historic  interest  to  all  parts  of 
our  country,  but  especially  to  the  Southwest.  What  I 
shall  state  may  be  relied  upon  as  strictly  true ;  for,  in 
addition  to  having  examined  with  all  care  the  pub- 


WEATHERFORD,    OR    THE    RED    EAGLE.  263 

lished  histories  touching  the  time,  I  have  drawn  my 
information  from  the  statements  of  several  individuals 
who  were  personally  acquainted  with  Weatherford,  in 
the  last  years  of  his  life,  and  heard  him  frequently 
narrate  the  most  remarkable  incidents  of  his  history. 
Still  my  account  will  be  found,  to  some  extent,  imper 
fect,  from  an  ignorance  of  circumstances  which  it  has 
been  impossible  to  elucidate,  and  from  the  contradic 
tions  which  always  exist  in  traditionary  narratives. 
This  obscurity,  while  it  detracts  somewhat  from  his 
toric  completeness,  yet  leaves  light  enough  to  satisfy 
us  that  w£  are  considering  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
men,  whether  savage  or  civilized,  which  the  American 
hemisphere  has  produced. 

WILLIAM  WE ATHERFOBD,  who  was  sometimes  called, 
in  his  native  tongue,  Lamochattee,  or  the  RED 
EAGLE,  was  a  scion  of  an  illustrious  stock,  among  the 
Muscogee  or  Creek  Indians,  produced  by  the  inter 
marriage  of  various  white  men  with  females  of  the 
aboriginal  race.  Soon  after  the  French,  from  Mobile, 
had  established,  in  1714,  Fort  Toulouse,  as  a  military 
and  trading  station,  near  the  junction  of  the  Coosa 
and  Tallapoosa,  a  Captain  Marchand,  in  command  at 
that  post,  took  as  his  wife,  according  to  the  rude  rites 
of  the  wilderness,  Sehoy,  a  Muscogee  maiden  of  the 
dominant  Family  of  the  Wind.  From  this  union  was 
born  Sehoy  Marchand,  who  married  in  1740,  Lachlan 
McGillivray,  a  shrewd  Scotch  adventurer  from  South 
Carolina.  They  left  three  children,  one  of  whom, 
Alexander  McGillivray,  became  the  great  Chief,  or 
Emperor,  as  he  styled  himself,  of  all  the  confederated 


264  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

Muscogee  tribes.  He  was  a  man  of  the  highest  intel 
lectual  abilities,  of  considerable  education,  and  of  won 
derful  talents  for  intrigue  and  diplomacy.  This  he  ex 
hibited  conspicuously,  through  the  period  of  the  Amer 
ican  Kevolution,  in  baffling  alike  the  schemes  of  our 
countrymen,  both  Whig  and  Tory,  of  the  Spaniards  in 
Florida,  of  the  British  at  Mobile,  and  of  the  French 
at  New  Orleans,  and  by  using  them  simultaneously 
for  his  own  purposes  of  political  and  commercial 
aggrandizement.  A  more  wily  Talleyrand  never  tvod 
the  red  war-paths  of  the  frontiers,  or  quaffed  the  decep 
tive  black-drink  at  sham  councils  or  with,  deluded 
agents  and  emissaries.  His  Life  would  make  a  most 
astonishing  and  attractive  Romance.  The  other  chil 
dren  of  his  parents  were  girls,  and  formed  distinguished 
alliances.  One  of  them  married  Le  Clere  Milfort,  a 
talented  French  officer,  who  resided  twenty  years  in 
the  nation,  as  a  War  Chief,  and  then,  having  lost  his 
wife,  returned  to  Paris,  published  a  Memoir  of  his 
"  Sejour  dans  la  nation  Creek,"  and  died  a  General  of 
Brigade  under  Napoleon.  Another  sister,  a  very  gifted 
woman,  married  Benjamin  Durant,  a  Huguenot  trader 
from  South  Carolina,  of  wonderful  athletic  powers, 
and  gave  birth  to  several  children,  among  whom  were 
Lachlan  Durant,  still  living  as  the  head  of  a  family  in 
Baldwin  County,  Alabama,  and  a  daughter,  who  mar 
ried  one  of  the  half-breed  Baileys,  so  distinguished,  in 
the  defence  of  Fort  Minis. 

By  a  previous  marriage  with  a  Tuckabatchee  chief, 
the  wife  of  Lachlan  McGillivray  had  had  another 
daughter,  upon  whom  she  bestowed  her  own  favorite 


OR    THE    RED    EAGLE.  265 

queenly  name  of  Sehoy.  This  young  princess  married, 
in  1778,  Col.  Tait,  a  British  officer  at  Fort  Toulouse— 
that  fortress  being  then  a  British  possession,  as  Mobile 
was  also  during  the  whole  period  of  our  Revolution. 
David  Tait,  a  distinguished  leader,  and  other  children 
were  the  fruits  of  this  marriage,  and  they  have  many 
descendants  still  surviving. 

But  Col.  Tait  soon  left  his  half-breed  wife,  a  buxom 
and  beautiful  widow,  and  she  formed  another  alliance 
far  more  important  in  its  consequences.  This  was  with 
Charles  Weatherford,  an  enterprising  Scotch  pedlar 
and  a  passionate  lover  of  horse-racing,  who  entered  the 
nation  from  Georgia  and  speedily  amassed  a  consid 
erable  fortune  in  negroes  and  horses.  He  was  a  man 
of  good  English  education  and  of  great  shrewdness, 
though  Claiborne  and  others  have  described  him  as 
sordid,  treacherous  and  revengeful. 

The  residence  of  McGillivray  was  principally  at  Little 
Tallasee,  upon  a  beautiful  upland  laAvn  called  the 
"  Apple  Grove,"  overlooking  the  Coosa  ;  but  his 
brothers-in-law  made  homes  and  plantations  for  their 
families  at  different  points  along  the  Alabama  River, 
as  far,  even,  as  its  confluence  with  the  Tombeckbee.  It 
is  perhaps  proper  to  state  here,  however,  that  all  of 
these  "head-men"  had  more  wives  than  one,  the  Mus- 
cogee  customs  allowing  polygamy  as  freely  as  the  most 
libidinous  Mormon  could  desire.  The  several  wives 
occupied  different  cabins,  often  at  very  remote  points. 
Still  there  was  always  a  favorite  wife,  of  chief  right  and 
authority,  and  the  sisters  of  McGillivray  need  fear  no 
rivalry,  as  well  on  account  of  their  own  intrinsic  rank 


266  SKETCflES   AND   ESSAYS. 

and  abilities  as  from  the  vast  influence  of  their 
brother. 

Charles  Weatherford  acquired,  by  his  marriage, 
great  popularity  in  the  nation,  and  took  an  active  part 
in  the  political  and  diplomatic  dealings  with  the  Span 
ish  and  American  authorities,  His  residence  was  on 
the  eastern  bank  of  the  Alabama  Kiver,  at  the  first 
bluff  below  the  junction  of  the  Coosa  and  Tallapoosa, 
and  opposite  the  Indian  village  of  Coosawda.  Here 
he  had  a  good  dwelling-house  and  store,  and,  near  by, 
his  favorite  Race  Track,  a  strong  point  of  attraction 
to  the  dissipated  natives,  These  were  mainly  of  the 
Alabama  tribe,  a  large  division  of  the  Muscogees,  who 
populated  the  country  along  both  banks  of  the  fine 
stream  still  retaining  their  name,  to  its  union  with  the 
Tombeckbee.  It  may  also  be  stated,  that  this  par 
ticular  tribe  appears,  from  old  maps  and  records,  to 
have  been  identical  with  the  Hillabees,  the  Allabees, 
the  Ullaballis,  &c.,  as  their  name  is  variously  written 
by  the  older  French  and  English  writers— thus  show 
ing  that  the  soft  word  Alabama,  whose  derivation  has 
been  much  disputed,  is  compounded  of  Alaba,  the 
name  of  the  tribe,  and  the  guttural  ejaculation  ma  or 
me,  so  commonly  used  by  the  natives  in  conversation. 

At  this  residence  of  his  father,  the  Race  Track, 
WILLIAM  WEATHERFORD  first  opened  his  eyes  upon 
the  scenes  in  which  he  was  destined  to  perform  so  con 
spicuous  a  part.  The  time  of  his  birth  is  not  certainly 
known,  though  it  must  have  been  about  the  year  1780, 
as  he  was  but  little  over  thirty  at  the  commencement 
of  the  war  in  1813,  Under  the  instruction  of  his  fa- 


WEATHERFORD,   OB   THE   REl)   EAGLE. 

ther,  and  his  uncle,  General  McGillivray,  and  of  Gen 
eral  Le  Clerc  Milfort,  young  Weatherford,  though  he 
would  not  learn  to  read  or  write,  acquired  a  very  accu 
rate  knowledge  of  the  English  language,  which  was 
advanced  and  improved  by  visits  to  Pensacola  and  Mo 
bile.  But  the  mind  of  the  young  Indian,  though 
grasping  with  singular  readiness  the  knowledge  thus 
imparted,  was  subject  to  stronger  tastes  and  propensi 
ties  ;  and  he  indulged  in  all  the  wild  pursuits  and 
amusements  of  the  youth  of  his  nation,  with  an  alac 
rity  and  spirit  which  won  their  approval  and  admira 
tion.  He  became  one  of  the  most  active,  athletic,  and 
swift-footed  participants  in  their  various  games  and 
dances,  and  was  particularly  expert  and  successful  as 
a  hunter,  in  the  use  of  the  rifle  and  the  bow.  He  was 
also  noted,  even  in  his  youth,  for  his  reckless  daring  as 
a  rider,  and  his  graceful  feats  of  horsemanship — which 
the  fine  stables  of  his  father  enabled  him  to  indulge. 
To  use  the  words  of  an  old  Indian  woman  who  knew 
him  at  this  period,  "  The  squaws  would  quit  hoeing 
corn,  and  smile  and  gaze  upon  him  as  he  rode  by  the 
corn-patch.0 

As  he  grew  to  manhood,  the  wars  of  his  people  with 
the  Chickasaws  and  Choctaws,  and  sanguinary  excur 
sions  to  the  frontiers  of  Georgia  and  Tennessee,  opened 
fields  for  the  exercise  of  his  talents  as  a  warrior,  and, 
in  many  perilous  expeditions  and  adventures  along  the 
waters  of  the  Chattahoochee  and  the  Cumberland, — 
the  Tombeckbee  and  the  Tuscaloosa,  thp  young 
chieftain  denoted  that  prowess  and  indomitable  energy 


268  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

of*  character,  which  laid  the  basis  of  his  subsequent 
inflaenoesivdth  his  tribe. 

But,  in  addition  to  these  military  qualities,  Weather- 
ford;  at  an  early  period,  exhibited  that  more  intellec 
tual  power,  Eloquence,  which  always  fascinates  and 
sways,  a  savage  people.  His  familiarity  with  the 
English  language  gave  him  a  range  of  thought  and 
facility  of  utterance,  uncommon  with  native  orators. 
The  Muscogee  language",  like  every  other  aboriginal 
tongue,  beL*g  rude  and  uncultivated,  was  necessarily 
deficient  ib.  terms  to  express  abstract  ideas,  or  spiritual 
conceptions ;  and  consequently  its  speakers  were  forced, 
when  attempting  these,  into  circumlocutions  and 
comparisons  drawn  from  the  physical  world.  Their 
language,  so  to  speak,  was  as  isiuch  a  material  growth, 
as  the  birds  and  £he  blossoms.  They  had  no  syno- 
nymes  for  such  words  asy  Peace,  and  Virtue — the 
white  wing  of  the  crane  was  the  symbol  of  the  one, 
and  the  clear  brook,  or  the  morning  breeze,  betokened 
the  other.  This  accounts  for  the  picturesque  and 
figurative  style  of  Indian  oratory  :  a  style  admired  by 
us,  from  its  poetic  nature,  but  whose  beauties  were  not 
apparent  to  its  authors  and  were  felt  as  restraints 
and  necessities.  The  familiarity  of  Weatherford  with 
the  English  language  enabled  him,  the  more  readily, 
to  obviate  these  difficulties,  and  to  give  freer  scope,  in 
expression,  to  his  thoughts  and  feelings.  This  will  be 
obvious,  in  the  specimen  we  shall  submit,  of  his 
oratory.  Early,  then,  he  acquired  influence  with  his 
people,  as  an  orator.  His  stirring  appeals,  unsur 
passed  in  Muscogee  tradition,  roused  them  to  the 


OR    THE    RED  ,,-EAGLE.  269 

fight,  or  guided  them  Jn  their  deliberations,  with  a 
judgment  and  perspicuity  which  commanded  confi 
dence  and  respect.  It  was  thus  that  a  master  spirit 
may  ever  assert  its  superiority  among  an  ignorant  and 
barbarous  people  ;  and  the  young  ^rator  and  warrior 
soon  found  himself  elevated,  by  his  own  force  of 
character,  to  a  commanding  position  in  the  councils  of 
his  tribe. 

Such  was  Weatherfordj/in  the  earlier  years  of  his 
manhood;  and,  in  further  illustration  of  hk  T;aracter, 
we  may  here  introduce  a  sketch  given  by  Mr.  Clai- 
bomvin'his  Notes  on  the  War  in  the  South.  The 
reader  will  see  that  this  sketch  is  by  no  partial  hand. 
It  was  written  while  the  author  was  incensed  against 
our  hero,  for  the  atrocities  committed  in  the  war  then 
recently  concluded, — and  an  unjust  coloring  is  given 
to  the  vices  of  his  character.  But  we  present  the  nar 
rative  unbroken,  with'  only  a  slight  change  in  the 
arrangement  of  its  sentences  : —  , 

"Fortune  bestowed  on  Weatherford,  genius,  elo 
quence,  and  courage.  The  first  of  these  qualities 
enabled  him  to  conceive  great  designs  ;  the  last  to  exe 
cute  them;  while  eloquence,  bold,  impressive,  and 
figurative,  furnished  him  with  a  passport  to  the  favor 
of  his  countrymen  and  followers.  Silent  and  reserved, 
unless  when  excited  by  some  great  occasion,  and  supe 
rior  to  the  weakness  of  rendering  himself  cheap  by  the 
frequency  of  his  addresses,  he  delivered  his  opinions 
but  seldom  in  council ;  but,  when  he  did  so,  he  was 
listened  to  with  delight  and  approbation.  His  judg 
ment  and  eloquence  had  secured  the  respect  of  the  old ; 


270  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

his  vices  made  him  the  idol  of  the  young  and  the  unprin 
cipled With  avarice,  treachery,  and  a  thirst  for 

blood,  he  combines  lust,  gluttony,  and  a  devotion  to 

every  species  of  criminal  carousal Passionately 

devoted  to  wealth,  he  had  appropriated  to  himself  a 
fine  tract  'of  land,  improved  and  settled  it ;  and,  from 
the  profits  of  his  father's  pack,  had  decorated  and  em 
bellished  it.  To  it  he  retired  occasionally,  and,  relaxing 
from  the  cares  of  State,  he  indulged  in  pleasures  which 
are  but  rarely  found  to  afford  satisfaction  to  the  devo 
tees  of  ambition  and  fame In  his  person,  he 

is  tall,  straight,  and  well  proportioned ;  his  eye 
black,  lively,  penetrating,  and  indicative  of  courage  and 
enterprize  ;  his  nose  prominent,  thin,  and  elegant  in 
its  formation  ;  while  all  the  features  of  his  face,  har 
moniously  arranged,  speak  an  active  and  disciplined 

mind Such  were  the  opposite  and  sometimes 

disgusting  traits  of  character  in  the  celebrated  Weather- 
ford,  the  key  and  corner-stone  of  the  Creek  Confederacy." 
Though,  we  say,  this  portrait  is  somewhat  too  darkly 
shaded  ;  yet  in  1812,  Weatherford  began  to  develope 
those  features  which  rendered  him  odious  to  the  Amer 
ican  people.  In  the  spring  of  that  year,  the  celebrated 
Tecumseh  visited  the  Muscogee  Indians,  and  endea 
vored  to  enlist  them  in  his  famous  conspiracy.  His 
shrewd  and  penetrating  mind  at  once  discovered  in 
the  young  chief  of  the  Alabamas,  as  he  had  already 
become,  a  valuable  ally  for  his  designs,  and,  by  making 
him  his  confident  and  principal  war  agent  in  the 
nation,  he  succeeded  in  winning  him  to  his  schemes. 
Weatherford  had  never  liked  the  American  people. 


OR  THE  RED  EAGLE.     271 

He  boasted  that  there  was  no  Yankee  blood  in  his 
veins.  His  uncle,  Gen.  McGillivray,  had  carefully 
instilled  this  hatred  into  his  mind,  and  the  Spaniards 
at  Pensacola,  had,  by  repeated  appeals  to  his  avarice 
and  ambition,  stimulated  him  to  hostility.  He  looked 
upon  the  constant  encroachments  of  the  Americans 
upon  the  territories  of  his  people,  as  foreboding  the 
extinction  of  his  tribe,  or  their  reduction  to  slavery 
and  want.  Under  all  these  motives,  he  entered  hear 
tily  into  the  plans  of  Tecumseh,  and  began  to  prepare 
for  war.  Artful  appeals  were  made  to  the  supersti 
tions  and  passions  of  the  Indians.  A  chieftain,  named 
Josiah  Francis,  or  HUlishactfo,  appeared  as  a  Prophet, 
and  claimed  to  have  received  direct  revelations  from 
the  "  Master  of  Breath,"  that  no  red-man  should  bo 
hurt  in  the  war,  but  that  the  white  people  should  all 
be  destroyed.  As  essential  to  this,  however,  the  Indians 
were  directed  to  abandon  all  the  arts  of  civilization  ; 
to  destroy  their  clothing,  ploughs  and  looms  ;  and 
to  resume  their  old  savage  habits  and  modes  of  life. 
Numerous  other  prophets,  male  and  female,  among 
whom  were  Monohoe,  and  Sinquista,  aided  in  inflam 
ing  the  minds  of  the  Indians.  The  substance  of  one 
of  these  prophecies  m&y  be  gleaned  from  a  letter  of 
Col.  Hawkins,  in  the  American  State  Papers  ;  "  The 
Great  Spirit  comes  down  to  us  in  the  sun  :  he  comes 
clown  right  over  our  heads.  He  has  given  us  power  to 
make  thunder,  and  lightning,  and  earthquakes,  and 
quagmires.  He  can  make  the  ground  open  and  swal 
low  up  our  enemies.  He  can  draw  circles  around  our 
nouses,  and  no  white  man  can  come  in  them,  without 


272  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

falling  down  dead.  He  can  rain  down  fire,  and  make 
the  wind  cut  like  hatchets.  Be  savages,  and  you  shall 
be  strong  as  the  hurricane/' 

With  such  fooleries,  and  by  the  stirring  eloquence 
of  Weatherford,  most  of  the  Indians  of  the  "  Upper 
Towns,"  those  on  the  Alabama  waters,  were  won  to 
hostilities.  The  Indians  of  "  the  Lower  Towns,"  upon 
the  Chattahoochee,  generally  remained  friendly.  The 
hostile  party  became  as  completely  free  from,  the  re 
strictions  of  civilization  as  the  most  benevolent  disci 
ple  of  Jean  Jacques  could  desire. 

It  was  the  wish  of  Weatherford,  that  an  outbreak 
should  not  occur  until  the  promised  return  of  Tecum- 
seh  from  the  North.  As  he  reflected  upon  the  magni 
tude  of  the  undertaking,  and  the  power  of  the  white 
foe,  and  as  he  found  that  a  very  large  part  of  his  own 
nation,  including  many  of  his  near  relatives  and  friends, 
who  were  among  the  most  influential  persons  in  the 
nation,  would  not  join  in  hostilities,  he  began  to  hesi 
tate  as  to  the  course  he  had  intended.  He  was  now 
living  on  a  fine  plantation  near  the  Holy  Ground,  with 
his  family,  having  many  negroes,  horses  and  stock 
about  him.  Finding  that  the  storm  of  hostilities 
could  not  be  allayed,  he  seqretly  went  down  to  the 
residence  of  his  half-brother,  David  Tait,  on  Little 
River,  (the  present  dividing  line  between  Monroe  and 
Baldwin  Counties,)  to  consult  him  and  his  other  rela 
tives,  among  whom  was  his  brother,  Jack  Weather- 
ford,  as  to  what  course  he  should  pursue.  They  ad 
vised  him  to  fly  with  his  family,  negroes  and  other 


WEATHERFORD,    OR    THE    RED    EAGLE.  273 

property,  to  their  neighborhood  ;  and  he  started  home 
for  that  purpose. 

Meanwhile  the  hostiles,  discovering  Weatherford's 
absence,  and  suspecting  his  purpose,  seized  his  family, 
negroes,  horses,  and  movable  property,  and  took  them 
to  the  Hickory  Ground,  shortly  above  Wetumpka. 
Weatherford,  finding  this,  went  to  the  Hickory 
Ground,  and  was  told  by  the  hostiles  that  they  in 
tended  to  keep  his  family  and  negroes  as  hostages,  and 
would  kill  them  and  him,  if  he  did  not  join  in  the 
war.  Under  this  necessity,  Weatherford  revived  his 
old  determinations,  from  which  unavoidable  embarrass 
ments  had  temporarily  diverted  him.  He  consented 
to  swim  with  the  stream  which  he  could  not  stem. 

The  ferocities  of  the  two  parties  in  the  nation,  and 
the  Battle  of  Burnt  Corn,  which  we  elsewhere  de 
scribe,  led  at  once  to  the  attack  upon  Fort  Mims. 
The  particulars  of  that  sanguinary  affair  are  embodied 
in  another  sketch,  and  it  is  only  necessary  here  to  re 
mark,  that  the  worst  features  of  the  character  of 
Weatherford,  were  then  developed  in  dreadful  hideous- 
ness,  He,  it  is  perhaps  true,  attempted,  at  first,  to 
prevent  the  attack,  but  yielded  to  the  importunities, 
of  his  warriors,  and  led  them  in  the  onset  with  a 
ferocity  which  no  excuse  can  palliate.  That  he  had 
some  motives  for  wishing  to  avert  this  blow,  will 
appear  from  circumstances  we  will  now  relate. 

Not  long  before  the  war  Weatherford  had  sought  in 
marriage,  as  a  second  wife,  the  daughter  of  Joseph 
Cornells,  a  white  man,  who  had  long  resided  among 
the  Indians  as  an  interpreter,  and  married  an  Indian 


274  SKETCHES   AND   ESSAYS. 

wife,  by  whom  he  had  five  children.  These  were 
George,  Alexander,  and  James,  sons,  and  Anna  and 
Lucy,  daughters.  The  family  was  wealthy,  and  one  of 
the  most  influential  in  the  nation.  Their  residence  was 
at  Tuckahatchee,  on  the  Tallapoosa.  Alexander  became 
a  chief,  and  by  an  Indian  wife  was  the  father  of  Opothle 
Yoholo,  now  a  distinguished  chieftain  of  his  tribe  in 
Arkansas.  Anna  Cornells,  shortly  before  the  war, 
married  a  son  of  the  Big  Warrior,  the  principal  leader 
of  the  friendly  Indians.  The  other  sons  had  the  trading 
habits  of  their  father,  and  acted  as  pedlars  in  different 
parts  of  the  nation.  The  career  of  James  was  marked 
by  some  romantic  incidents,  which  may  form  an  in 
teresting  episode  in  our  narrative,  as  showing  the  sin 
gular  modes  of  life  and  feeling  among  these  denizens  of 
the  wilderness. 

Some  years  before  the  war,  James  Cornells  had  pur 
chased,  from  one  of  the  McGirts,  a  ferry  on  the  Alabama 
River,  not  far  from  the  present  town  of  Claiborne. 
Here,  on  a  bold  bluff  overlooking  the  river,  he  resided 
with'  his  niece,  a  handsome  young  half-breed.  A  man, 
named  Jones,  came  to  the  place,  with  his  wife,  a  fine- 
looking  woman,  who  had  no  children.  Cornells  em 
ployed  Jones  to  keep  the  ferry,  and  soon  fell  in  love 
with  his  wife.  The  charms  of  a  buxom  dame,  with 
fair  complexion  and  blue  eyes,  were  too  much  for  the 
half-forest  Lothario.  She  returned  his  partiality,  and 
Cornells,  in  a  spirit  of  savage  equity,  proposed  to  Jones 
to  give  him  his  niece  in  exchange  for  his  wife.  The 
proposition  was  agreeable  to  all  parties,  and  Cornells 
accordingly  took  the  dame,  and  removed  to  Burnt 


WEATHERFORD,    OR    THE   RED   EAGLE.  275 

Corn,  where  the  road  from  Pensacola  branched  off  into 
the  nation.  Here  he  located  himself,  as  an  eligible 
point  to  deal  with  the  Indians  and  pedlars  trading  to 
and  from  Pensacola,  and  with  the  emigrants  from 
Georgia,  who  passed  by  this  place  on  their  way  to  the 
Tombeckbee  settlements  and  to  Mississippi. 

Jones,  rejoicing  in  his  new  nuptials,  remained  at  the 
ferry,  having  agreed  to  pay  Cornells  a  portion  of  the 
receipts.  He  was,  however,  dissipated  and  drunken, 
and  very  reckless  and  desperate  when  under  the  influ 
ence  of  liquor.  The  "  green-eyed  monster  "  seems  also 
to  have  speedily  invaded  his  domestic  sanctuary.  One 
day,  after  having  been  off  and  got  drunk,  he  returned 
home  and  found  Jim  Dale,  a  brother  of  the  celebrated 
Canoe-Fighter,  of  whom  we  speak  elsewhere,  in  his 
house,  talking  alone  with  his  wife.  This  Dale  was  a 
very  powerful  man,  but  was  lame  from  a  crooked  knee, 
which  made  one  leg  some  two  or  three  inches  shorter 
than  the  other,  and  forced  him  to  walk  with  a  hobbling 
gait.  The  sight  of  the  suspicious  intruder  in  the  shrine 
where  he  had  "  garnered  up  his  hopes,"  at  once  roused 
all  the  Othello  blood  in  the  husband's  bosom,  and 
drawing  his  knife,  he  rushed  upon  him.  Dale,  albeit 
brave,  was  unarmed,  and  was  forced  to  make  a  hasty 
and  limping  retreat  into  the  yard,  where,  seizing  a  large 
weeding  hoe,  he  turned  and  struck  his  pursuer  with 
great  force  upon  the  top  of  the  head.  The  blade  passed 
transversely  through  the  skull,  but  did  not  sever  the 
cartilage  of  the  brain.  Jones  fell  senseless,  with  the 
hoe  sticking  fast  in  his  head.  Dale  continued  his 
hobbling  flight,  but  the  injured  Desdemona  sprang  to 


•276  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

her  fallen  lord,  pulled  out  the  hoe,  and  nursed  him  as 
well  as  she  could.  Savage  hostilities  had  now  broken 
out,  and  concealing  her  husband  in  a  cane-brake,  she 
carefully  tended  him  until  his  recovery. 

After  the  war,  Jones  resumed  the  ferry,  but  refused 
to  pay  Cornells  any  portion  of  the  receipts,  or  to 
recognize  any  title  in  him.  The  indignant  owner  hav 
ing  come  to  see  Jones  about  it,  he  became  very  mad, 
and  seizing  his  gun,  attempted  to  shoot  Cornells,  who 
fled  for  safety.  For  several  days  he  skulked  about 
from  one  place  to  another,  not  having  any  weapon  to 
defend  himself  with  against  his  drunken  and  desperate 
pursuer.  At  last,  he  took  refuge  in  the  camp  of  Mc- 
Girt,  where  he  thought  himself  safe.  But  one  morn 
ing  he  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  a  horse's  feet,  and 
looking  out,  saw  Jones  riding  rapidly  up,  armed  with 
a  double-barrelled  shot  gun.  Looking  around  for 
some  weapon  of  defence,  he  could  find  nothing  but  an 
old  rusty  musket,  which  McGirt  afterwards  said,  he 
believed  had  not  been  used  since  sometime  in  the  war, 
and  certainly  had  been  loaded  more  than  a  year.  The 
lock  was  all  covered  with  rust  and  dirt.  With  this, 
Cornells  sprang  up,  and,  levelling  it  at  Jones,  ordered 
him  to  stop.  The  latter  starting  to  raise  his  gun, 
Cornells  cocked  the  old  musket,  and,  pulling  the  trigger, 
the  load  went  off  and  killed  Jones  dead  on  the  spot. 

Cornells  now  got  possession  of  the  Ferry,  and  re 
ceived  back  his  wife  from  Pensacola,  whither  she  had 
been  taken  as  a  prisoner  by  McQueen's  warriors  and 
sold,  after  they  had  destroyed  her  husband's  residence 
on  Burnt  Corn  Creek,  at  the  commencement  of  the  wars,, 


WEATHERFORD,    OR    THE    RED    EAGLE.  277 

The  "  widow  Jones"  soon  solaced  herself  for  the  loss 
of  her  drunken  and  jealous  spouse,  in  the  arms  of  a 
second  husband  named  Oliver. 

From  this  romantic  but  well-authenticated  episode, 
we  return  to  our  main  narrative.  The  youngest 
daughter  of  Joseph  Cornells  was  Lucy,  an  extremely 
beautiful  and  spirited  maiden  of  about  seventeen  or 
eighteen  summers.  With  her  Weatherford  became 
passionately  enamored,  and  his  affections  were  recipro 
cated.  But  hostilities  breaking  out  just  at  this  time, 
Joseph  Cornells  fled  with  his  family  to  the  Tensaw 
settlements  and  took  shelter  in  Fort  Mims.  The 
presence  of  these  and  others  to  whom  he  was  related, 
including  the  Taits,  the  Durants,  the  Baileys,  and  the 
Macnacs,  rendered  Weatherford  unwilling  to  permit 
the  massacre,  and  it  is  quite  certain  that  he  apprised 
some  of  the  inmates  of  the  intended  assault.  Of  the 
few  who  escaped  destruction,  Cornells  was  one,  not 
being  in  the  fort  at  the  time  of  the  attack,  and  his 
daughter  was  taken  to  the  nation  by  Weatherford, 
with  whom  she  remained  during  the  war.  The  father 
took  an  active  part  on  the  American  side,  and  was  of 
essential  service  as  a  guide  in  our  army. 

After  his  return  from  Fort  Mims,  Weatherford  was, 
by  general  consent,  declared  the  principal  chief  and 
warrior,  or  Tustenuggee,  of  the  hostile  Indians,  and 
made  every  arrangement  in  his  power  to  meet  the' 
approaching  contest.  We  need  not  detail  the  particu 
lars  of  that  war  ;  they  are  a  part  of  the  permanent 
history  of  our  country.  In  nearly  all  the  battles  that 
took  place,  Weatherford  was  present,  and  distinghished 


278  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

himself  for  his  generalship,  intrepidity,  and  endurance. 
But  what  could  he  expected  from  the  feehle  numbers 
and  resources  of  the  Indians  ?  The  invaders  pressed 
through  every  part  of  the  nation,  with  a  celerity  as 
astonishing  as  their  power  was  irresistible.  The  hat- 
tie  of  Tallashatchee  was  fought  the  third  of  November ; 
Talladega,  the  tenth;  Hillabee,  the  eighteenth ;  Au- 
tossee,  the  twenty-ninth ;  Emuckfaw,  the  twenty- 
second  of  January,  1814  ;  Echanachaca,  the  twenty- 
third  ;  Enotichopco,  the  twenty-fourth  ;  Caleehe,  the 
twenty-seventh ;  and  Tohopeka,  or  the  Horse-Shoe,  the 
twenty-seventh  of  March.  These,  with  numerous 
smaller  engagements,  almost  exterminated  the  nation. 
Not  less  than  four  thousand  warriors  are  believed  to 
have  fallen  victims  to  their  wild  fanaticism  and  mar 
tyr-like  courage  !  And  is  it  not  strange  that,  through 
all  these  bloody  fields,  the  chieftain  most  hunted  and 
exposed,  should  have  passed  without  even  a  serious 
wound  ?  Some  Fortune  does  indeed  protect  the 
Brave  !  Let  us  cite  a  few  instances,  not  more  romantic 
than  well  authenticated. 

Echanachaca,  or  the  Holy  Ground,  was  the  residence 
of  Weatherford.  The  location  of  this  spot  has  been, 
with  some,  a  subject  of  uncertainty.  Eaton,  in  his 
Life  of  Jackson,  confounds  it  with  the  Hickory  Ground, 
in  the  fork  of  the  Coosa  and  Tallapoosa,  and  tradition 
has,  in  part,  adopted  the  error.  The  Holy  Ground 
proper,  however,  was  situated  along  the  south  bank  of 
the  Alabama,  between  Pintlala  and  Big  Swamp  Creeks, 
in  the  present  county  of  Lowndes.  It  received  its 
name  from  being  the  residence  of  the  principal 


OR   THE    RED    EAGLE.  279 

prophets  of  the  nation,  and  having  been  by  them  con 
secrated  from  the  intrusion  of  white  men.  Wizard 
circles  were  described  around  its  borders,  arid  the 
credulous  inhabitants  were  assured  that  no  enemy 
could  tread  upon  its  soil  without  being  blasted.  It 
was  emphatically  called  the  "  Grave  of  White  Men." 
A  more  fertile  and  beautiful  track  of  country,  especi 
ally  when  clothed  with  the  vegetation  of  spring-time, 
does  not  exist  in  our  State  ;  and  it  was  thickly  popu 
lated  by  the  aborigines.  Near  the  mouth  of  Pintlala, 
stood  a  village  of  eighty  wigwams.  The  chief  town, 
a  few  miles  below,  contained  two  hundred  houses  ; 
and  here  the  council  house  of  the  Alabama  tribe  was 
situated.  At  the  beginning  of  the  war,  the  Indians 
had  removed  their  families  and  principal  property  to 
this  place  ;  and  it  was  also  their  main  depot  of  ammu 
nition  and  provisions.  As  the  larger  village  was  en 
closed  by  pickets  as  well  as  magic  circles,  it  was  con 
sidered  impregnable  to  all  assaults.  But  on  the  23d  of 
December,  1813,  General  Claiborne,  at  the  head  of 
the  Mississippi  militia,  with  a  band  of  Choc  taws 
under  Puahmataha,  their  Chief,  invaded  the  Holy 
Ground  and  destroyed  its  villages,  after  a  desperate 
resistance,  in  which  many  were  slain.  The  women 
and  children  barely  had  time  to  escape  across  the 
Alabama.  Weatherford  conducted  this  defence  with 
great  judgment  and  courage.  But  neither  the  prom 
ises  of  the  prophets  nor  the  example  of  their  chief 
could  induce  his  followers  to  withstand  the  superior 
numbers  and  strength  of  the  invaders.  Weatherford 
was  the  last  to  leave  the  field,  and,  in  consequence, 


280  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

came  near  being  taken  prisoner.  Though  mounted 
upon  a  swift  horse,  he  was  so  closely  pursued  by  a 
body  of  dragoons,  that  the  only  chance  of  escape  left 
him  was  to  make  his  way  across  the  river.  He  pressed  on 
for  this  purpose,  but  was  so  hedged  and  encircled  by 
his  pursuers,  that  he  was  forced  upon  the  summit  of  a 
bluff  which  beetles  over  the  river  with  an  elevation  of 
nearly  an  hundred  feet.  Upon  discovering  his  posi 
tion,  the  chief  checked  his  steed,  and,  gazing  around, 
saw  that  his  pursuers  were  at  a  short  distance  and 
approaching  rapidly,  with  shouts  of  joy  and  derision. 
Quickly  raising  his  rifle  to  his  eye,  he  singled  out  the 
foremost  pursuer,  brought  him  to  the  ground,  and 
then  urging  his  horse  with  a  sudden  impulse,  the  noble 
animal,  dashing  down  a  steep  ravine  for  about  half  the 
distance,  leaped  over  the  bluff,  and  the  two  were  borne 
with  dreadful  rapidity  to  the  water.  The  horse  re 
tained  his  upright  position,  and  the  rider  his  seat, 
until  they  were  within  a  short  distance  of  the  stream; 
they  then  seperated;  the  horse  sank  to  rise  no  more  ; 
but  the  gallant  Indian,  unhurt  by  the  fall,  swam 
across  the  river,  and  escaped  from  his  wondering  and 
baffled  pursuers. 

The  battle  of  Tohopeka  put  an  end  to  the  hopes  of 
Weatherford.  This  village  was  situated  on  a  penin 
sula,  within  the  "  horse-shoe  bend"  of  the  Tallapoosa. 
Here  twelve  hundred  warriors,  from  the  towns  of  Oak- 
fuskee,  Hillabee,  New  Yauka,  and  Eufaula,  had  forti 
fied  themselves  for  a  desperate  struggle,  assured  by 
their  prophets  that  the  Master  of  Breath  would  now 
interpose  in  their  favor.  Across  the  neck  of  land, 


OR    THE    RED    EAGLE.  281 

three  hundred  and  fifty  yards  wide,  that  leads  into  the 
peninsula,  they  had  constructed  powerful  breastworks 
of  hewn  logs,  eight  or  ten  feet  high,  and  pierced  with 
double  rows  of  port-holes,  from  which  they  could  fire 
with  perfect  security.  The  selection  of  this  spot  and 
the  character  of  its  defences  did  great  credit  to  the 
military  genius  of  Weatherford — and  his  eloquence, 
more  than  usually  persuasive  and  inspiriting,  filled  his 
devoted  followers  with  a  courage  strangely  compounded 
of  fanaticism  and  despair.  At  an  early  hour  in  the 
morning,  General  Coifee's  command  having  crossed 
the  river  and  encircled  the  bend  so  as  to  cut  off  all  es 
cape,  General  Jackson  opened  his  artillery  upon  the 
breastworks,  and  having  but  in  part  demolished  them, 
ordered  forward  the  thirty-ninth  regiment  to  cany 
the  place  by  storm.  The  van  was  gallantly  led  by 
Colonel  Williams,  Colonel  Bunch,  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Benton,  and  Major  Montgomery.  Amidst  a  most  de 
structive  fire,  they  pressed  to  the  breastworks,  and 
desperately  struggled  for  the  command  of  the  port 
holes.  But  Major  Montgomery,  impatient  at  the  de 
lay,  cried  out  to  his  men  to  follow  him,  and  leaped 
upon  the  wall  in  face  of  the  deadliest  fire.  For  an  in 
stant  he  waved  his  sword  over  his  head  in  triumph, 
but  the  next  fell  lifeless  to  the  ground,  shot  through 
the  head  by  a  rifle  ball.  A  more  gallant  spirit  never 
achieved  a  nobler  death,  and  the  name  of  the  young 
Tennesseean  is  preserved  as  a  proud  designation,  by 
one  of  the  richest  counties,  as  well  as  by  one  of  the  most 
flourishing  cities,  in  the  State  whose  soil  was  baptized 
by  his  blood ! 


282  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

The  breastworks  having  been  carried  by  storm,  the 
Indians  fell  back  among  the  trees,  brush  and  timber  of 
the  peninsula,  and  kept  up  a  spirited  contest.  But, 
in  the  meantime,  a  portion  of  Coffee's  command,  and 
some  of  the  friendly  warriors  under  their  distinguished 
chieftain,  Mdntosh,  had  swam  across  the  river,  fired 
the  village  of  Tohopeka,  and  carried  off  the  canoes  of 
the  enemy.  The  followers  of  Weatherford  now  became 
desperate,  and  from  the  banks,  hollows  and  other  fast 
nesses  of  the  place,  fought  with  fury,  refusing  all  offers 
of  quarter.  The  fight  continued  in  severity  for  five 
hours  ;  and  the  going  down  of  the  sun  was  hailed  by 
the  survivors  as  furnishing  them  some  chance  of  escape. 
But  the  hope  was,  in  the  main,  deceptive.  Already 
five  hundred  and  fifty-seven  lay  dead  upon  the  battle 
field,  and  a  great  number  now  perished  in  the  river. 
Not  more  than  twenty  warriors  are  believed  to  have 
escaped,  under  cover  of  the  night..  Among  these, 
strange  enough,  was  the  chieftain  whose  appellation, 
"the  Murderer  of  Fort  Mims,"  had  formed  the  watch 
word  and  war-cry  of  his  enemies  in  this  very  engagement. 
Favored  by  the  thick  darkness,  he  floated  down  the 
river  with  his  horse,  until  below  the  American  lines, 
and  then,  reaching  the  shore,  made  his  way  in  safety 
to  the  highlands  south  of  the  Tallapoosa.  The  principal 
prophets  of  the  nafion  perished  in  this  engagement.  In 
wild  and  fantastic  decorations, — their  heads  and  shoul 
ders  adorned  with  the  plumage  of  the  peacock  and  the 
flamingo,  and  with  many  jingling  bells  that  kept  music 
to  their  wizard  contortions  and  dances,  they  had 
howled  forth  their  incantations  during  the  day ;  but 


OR    THE    RED    EAGLE.  283 

perished  with  their  deluded  followers.  Monohoe,  one 
of  the  principal,  was  struck  by  a  cannon  ball  in  the 
mouth,  while  in  the  very  act  of  giving  utterance  to  a 
burst  of  pretended  inspiration.  Is  it  wonderful  that  the 
simple  and  superstitious  savages  regarded  this  as  a  sig 
nal  and  punishment  of  his  impiety  and  falsehood  ? 

After  this  battle,  the  hostile  Indians  generally  came 
in  and  surrendered  to  General  Jackson.  A  few, 
among  whom  were  Francis,  the  prophet,  and  Peter 
McQueen,  succeeded  in  escaping  to  Florida.  The  po 
sition  of  Weatherford  was  painful  in  the  extreme. 
He  knew  that  he  was  an  object  of  special  vengeance 
and  retaliation  with  the  American  commander,  for  the 
cruelties  perpetrated  at  Fort  Minis.  He  felt  that  he 
was  properly  regarded  as  the  head  and  front  of  the 
whole  offending.  A  talk  of  Gen.  Jackson  to  the  Hilla- 
bee  tribe,  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  had  come  to  his 
ears,  in  which  that  officer  said,  that  "  the  instigators  of 
the  war,  and  the  murderers  of  our  citizens,  must  be 
surrendered ;  the  latter  must  and  will  be  made  to  feel 
the  force  of  our  resentment.  Long  shall  they  remem 
ber  Fort  Mims  in  bitterness  and  tears."  Weatherford 
could  not  consent  to  fly  from  the  nation  ;  he  felt  that 
he  owed  it,  as  a  duty  to  his  people,  not  to  abandon  them 
until  peace  was  restored.  In  this  state  of  mind  he  was 
apprised  that  the  American  commander  had  set  a  price 
upon  his  head,  and  refused  peace  to  the  other  chiefs, 
unless  they  should  bring  him  either  dead,  or  in  con 
finement,  to  the  American  camp,  now  at,  Fo^t  Jackson, 
near  the  junction  of  the  rivers.  His  determination 
was  at  once  taken  in  the  same  spirit  of  heroism  that 


284  SKETCHES   AND   ESSAYS. 

always  marked  his  conduct.  Accordingly,  mounting 
his  horse,  he  made  his  way  across  the  country,  and 
soon  appeared  at  the  lines  of  the  encampment.  At 
his  request,  a  sentinel  conducted  him  to  the  presence 
of  the  commander-in-cliief,  who  was  seated  in  his 
marquee,  in  consultation  with  several  of  his  principal 
officers.  The  stately  and  nohle  appearance  of  the 
warrior,  at  once  excited  the  attention  and  surprise  of 
the  General,  and  he  demanded  of  the  Chief,  his  name 
and  the  purpose  of  his  visit. 

In  calm  and  deliberate  tones,  the  chieftain  said  : 
"  I  am  Weatherford.  I  have  come  to  ask  peace  for 
myself  and  for  my  people." 

The  mild  dignity  with  which  these  words  were  ut 
tered,  no  less  than  their  import,  struck  the  American 
commander  with  surprise.  After  a  moment  he  ex 
pressed  his  astonishment  that  one  whose  conduct  at 
Fort  Minis  was  so  well  known,  and  who  must  be  con 
scious  that  he  deserved  to  die,  should  venture  to  ap 
pear  in  his  presence.  "  I  had  directed  you  to  be 
brought  to  me  confined.  Had  you  appeared  in  that 
way,  I  should  have  known  how  to  have  treated  you." 

Weatherford,  his  brow  becoming  slightly  clouded, 
and  his  voice  deep  but  not  tremulous,  immediately 
answered :  "I  am  in  your  power.  Do  with  me  as  you 
please.  I  am  a  soldier.  I  have  done  the  white  people 
all  the  harm  I  could.  I  have  fought  them,  and  fought 
them  bravely.  If  I  yet  had  an  army,  I  would  fight 
and  contend  to  the  last.  But  I  have  none.  My  peo 
ple  are  all  gone.  I  can  now  do  no  more  than  weep 
over  the  misfortunes  of  my  nation." 


WEATHERFORD,   OR   THE   RED   EAGLE.  285 

The  bold,  dignified,,  and  firm  tone  of  this  reply 
struck  a  sympathetic  key  in  the  commander's  bosom. 
By  intuitive  perception  the  forest  orator  had  discovered 
the  only  mode  of  address  which,  perhaps,  could  have 
softened  the  iron  rigor  of  his  conqueror's  feelings :  and 
the  latter  answered,  in  substance,  that,  while  the  only 
terms  upon  which  the  nation  could  be  saved,  were  un 
conditional  submission,  yet,  he  said, — "as  for  yourself, 
if  you  do  not  like  the  terms,  no  advantage  shall  be 
taken  of  your  present  surrender  :  you  are  at  liberty  to 
depart,  and  resume  hostilities  when  you  please.  But, 
if  you  are  taken  then,  your  life  shall  pay  the  forfeit  of 
your  crimes." 

This  answer  appeared  to  Weatherford,  at  first,  as  a 
little  ungenerous  ;  and,  calmly  folding  his  arms  upon 
his  bosom, he  replied  :  "I  desire  peace  for  no  selfish 
reasons,,  but  that  my  nation  may  be  relieved  from  their 
sufferings  ;  for,  independent  of  the  other  consequences 
of  the  war,  their  cattle  are  destroyed,  and  their  women 
and  children  destitute  of  provisions.  But,"  he  ex 
claimed,  "  I  may  well  be  addressed  in  such  language 
now  !  There  was  a  time  when  I  had  a  choice,  and  could 
have  answered  you.  I  have  none  now.  Even  hope  has 
ended.  Once  I  could  animate  my  warriors  to  battle. 
But  I  cannot  animate  the  dead.  My  warriors  can  no 
longer  hear  my  voice.  Their  bones  are  at  Talladega, 
Tallashatchee,  Emuckfaw,  and  Tohopeka.  I  have 
not  surrendered  myself  thoughtlessly.  While  there 
were  chances  of  success,  I  never  left  my  post,  nor  sup 
plicated  peace.  But  my  people  are  gone,  and  I  now 
ask  peace  for  my  nation  and  myself.  On  the  miseries 


286  SKETCHES  AND  ESSAYS. 

and  misfortunes  brought  upon  my  country,  I  look  back 
with  the  deepest  sorrow,  and  wish  to  avert  still  greater 
calamities,  If  I  had  been  left  to  contend  with  the 
Georgia  army,  I  would  have  raised  my  corn  on  one 
bank  of  the  river,  and  fought  them  on  the  other.  But 
your  people  have  destroyed  my  nation.  General 
Jackson,  you  are  a  brave  man  :  I  am  another.  I  do 
not  fear  to  die.  But  I  rely  upon  your  generosity. 
You  will  exact  no  terms  of  a  conquered  and  helpless 
people,  but  those  to  which  they  should  accede. 
Whatever  they  may  be,  it  would  now  be  folly  and 
madness  to  oppose  them.  If  they  are  opposed,  you 
shall  find  me  among  the  sternest  enforcers  of  obedience. 
Those,  who  would  still  hold  out,  can  only  be  influenced 
by  a  mean  spirit  of  revenge.  To  this  they  must  not, 
and  shall  not,  sacrifice  the  last  remnant  of  their  coun 
try.  You  have  told  us  what  we  may  do  and  be  safe. 
Yours  is  a  good  talk,  and  my  nation  ought  to  listen 
to  it.  They  shall  listen  to  it !" 

This  speech,  pronounced  with  a  calm,  impressive 
voice,  an  erect  attitude,  and  but  little  gesticulation, 
would  have  moved  feelings  less  generous  than  those  of 
Gen.  Jackson.  He  at  once  acceded  to  the  demands 
of  Weatherford,  and  assured  him  of  peace  and  safety 
for  himself  and  people.  As  a  specimen  of  oratory  we 
know  nothing  finer  than  this  address.  It  even  surpasses 
the  admired  speech  of  Caractacus,  the  Briton,  when 
led  captive  to  Rome,  and  displays  a  spirit  which  would 
have  done  credit  to  Napoleon,  under  similar  circum 
stances,  after  the  Battle  of  Waterloo.  In  the  ordinary 
characteristics  of  Indian  eloquence,  profuse  imagery, 


WEATSERFORD,    OB   THE   RED   EAGLE.  287 

it  is  wanting.  There  is  not  a  metaphor,  simile,  or 
superfluous  phrase  in  the  speech.  But  in  this  consists 
its  excellence.  Deep  feeling  ever  utters  itself  in  the 
plainest  language,  and  does  not  stop  to  cull  the  flowers 
of  rhetoric  and  fancy.  Had  Weatherford  dealt  in 
these,  would  he  riot  undoubtedly  have  failed  in  securing 
deliverance  from  his  perilous  position  ? 

Though  the  American  commander  was  thus  con 
ciliated,  there  were  many  friendly  chiefs  in  the  encamp 
ment  who  did  not  readily  acquiesce  in  the  pardon  of 
Weatherford.  Even  during  the  delivery  of  the  first 
part  of  his  speech  several  guns  were  presented  at  him, 
and  Tustenuggee  Thlucco,  the  Big  Warrior,  went  so 
far  as  to  attempt  his  life,  being  with  difficulty  restrained 
by  Gen.  Jackson.  Weatherford  never  forgave  this 
conduct  of  his  old  enemy,  but,  long  after,  spoke  of  it 
as  proceeding  from  cowardice  and  malevolence.  The 
friendly  Indians  generally,  however,  treated  the  fallen 
chieftain,  during  his  stay  in  camp,  with  the  utmost 
deference.  They  seldom  came  in  his  presence,  and, 
when  any  did,  they  were  observed  to  quail  before  his 
eye,  and  tremble  with  fear. 

From  this  time,  until  the  treaty  of  peace  and  cession, 
on  the  ninth  of  August,  1814,  Weatherford  was  ac 
tively  engaged  in  inducing  his  friends  and  followers  to 
accept  the  terms  of  submission  offered  by  the  Ameri 
can  General.  After  some  weeks,  he  visited  his  rela 
tives  upon  Little  Kiver,  near  Fort  Minis,  and  endea 
vored  to  collect  together  his  negroes  and  cattle,  at  his 
plantation,  in  that  quarter.  But  his  life  was  in  con 
stant  danger  from  the  Steadhams  and  other  survivors 


288  SKETCHES   AND   ESSAYS. 

of  the  massacre,  and  he  went  to  Fort  Claiborne,  and 
received  the  protection  of  Col.  Bussell,  the  commander. 
Even  here,  however,  the  avengers  were  upon  his  track, 
and  the  commander  thought  it  best  to  send  him  to  the 
main  army  under  Gen.  Jackson.  Accordingly,  one 
dark,  stormy  night,  he  was  secretly  conducted  by  Cap 
tain  Laval,  beyond  the  lines  ;  was  mounted. on  a  fine 
horse,  and  started  off  rapidly  for  the  American  Head- 
Quarters.  Here  he  remained,  under  the  immediate 
protection  of  General  Jackson,  until  the  conclusion  of 
the  treaty  of  peace  and  cession.  In  that  treaty,  so 
marked  by  its  stern  and  dictatorial  tone,  the  Creeks 
were  forced  to  yield  all  their  territory  west  of  the  Coosa 
and  south  of  the  Alabama.  This  had  been  the  coun 
try,  principally,  of  the  hostile  party,  and  was  demanded 
as  the  price  of  the  war.  Thus,  the  cruelties  perpe 
trated  at  Fort  Minis,  and  the  mad  policy  of  the 
fanatical  chiefs  and  prophets,  lost  to  the  nation  all  the 
fine  domains  which  subsequently  became  the  State  of 
Alabama.  Truly  does  the  gentle  and  sympathetic 
Bryant  sing  : — 

"  And  we  have  built  our  homes  upon 

Fields  where  their  generations  sleep  !" 

In  this  treaty  it  was  stipulated  that  a  township  of 
land  should  be  reserved  in  the  ceded  territory,  to  each 
of  the  heads  of  the  Indian  families,  who  had  been 
friendly  during  the  war.  By  this  provision,  the  Taits, 
the  Cornells,  the  Sizemores,  and  Jack  Weatherford, 
the  brother  of  the  chieftain,  and  many  others  were 
secured  in  their  possessions.  They  also  took  charge 


WEATHERFORD,    OR    THE    RED    EAGLE.  289 

of  the  property  of  their  distinguished  but  unfortunate 
relative,  in  this  quarter. 

The  war  being  over,  General  Jackson  returned  to 
Tennessee,  taking  with  him  several  of  the  leading 
Indians.  Among  these,  was  his  gallant  and  eloquent 
antagonist — Weatherford.  The  safety  of  the  chief 
was  the  object  of  this  act,  and  his  presence  was  sedu 
lously  concealed.  At  the  Hermitage  he  remained  for 
nearly  a  year,  (until  after  the  seizure  of  Pensacola  by 
Jackson,)  and  then  returned  to  his  relatives  upon 
Little  Kiver.  He  brought  with  him  two  fine  horses, — 
one  of  them  a  splendid  blooded  animal,— which  had 
been  presented  to  him  by  General  Jackson.  His  rela 
tives  soon  restored  to  him  his  property,  and  generously 
granted  to  him  portions  of  their  reservations,  for  a 
plantation.  Such  of  his  negroes,  horses  and  cattle  as 
had  not  been  destroyed,  were  now  brought  from  the 
interior  of  the  nation,  and  served  to  re-instate  the 
chief  in  somewhat  of  his  ancient  wealth.  His  home, 
to  which  his  family  repaired,  was  located  in  a  fine 
live-oak  grove  upon  the  banks  of  Little  River. 

Here,  almost  within  sight  of  the  scene  of  his  greatest 
cruelties,  the  chief  of  many  a  hard-fought  field,  pur 
sued  the  peaceful  occupations  of  a  farmer.  Gradually 
the  country  about  him  filled  up  with  that  race  against 
whom  his  hand  had  been  lifted  with  so  much  violence : 
but  we  know  not  that  his  quiet  or  repose  was  ever  dis 
turbed  by  unfriendliness  or  intrusion,  except  on  one  or 
two  occasions,  by  the  still  revengeful  Steadhams,  who 
were  eventually  propitiated  by  the  explanations  of  the 
chief  and  his  friends.  The  character  of  the  man  seemed 


290  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

to  have  been  changed  by  the  war.  He  was  no  longer 
cruel,  vindictive,  idle,  intemperate,  or  fond  of  display. 
But,  surrounded  by  his  family,  he  preserved  a  dignified 
and  retiring  demeanor  ;  was  industrious,  sober,  and 
economical ;  and  was  a  kind  and  indulgent  master  to 
his  servants,  of  whom  he  had  many.  A  gentleman, 
who  had  favorable  opportunities  of  judging,  says  of 
him,  that  "in  his  intercourse  with  the  whites,  his 
bearing  was  marked  by  nobleness  of  purpose,  arid  his 
conduct  Avas  always  honorable.  No  man  was  more 
fastidious  in  complying  with  his  engagements.  His 
word  was  by  him  held  to  be  more  sacred  than  the  most 
binding  legal  obligation.  Art  and  dissimulation  formed 
no  part  of  his  character.  Ever  frank  and  guileless,  no 
one  had  the  more  entire  confidence  of  those  among 
whom  he  lived."  Another  gentleman,  who  knew 
Weatherford  intimately  for  a  number  of  years,  informs 
me  that  "  he  possessed  remarkable  intellectual  powers  : 
that  his  perceptions  were  quick  almost  to  intuition,  his 
memory  tenacious,  his  imagination  vivid,  his  judgment 
strong  and  accurate,  and  his  language  copious,  fluent 
and  expressive.  In  short,"  he  says,  "  Weatherford 
possessed  naturally  one  of  the  finest  minds  our  country 
has  produced." 

These  traits  of  character,  exhibited  for  a  number  of 
years,  won  for  their  possessor,  the  esteem  and  respect 
of  those  who  knew  him,  notwithstanding  the  circum 
stances  of  his  earlier  life.  Indeed,  those  circumstances 
threw  around  the  man  a  romance  of  character,  which 
made  him  the  more  attractive.  After  the  bitterness, 
which  the  war  engenered,  had  subsided,  his  narratives 


WEATHERFORD,    OR    THE    RED    EAGLE.  291 

were  listened  to  with  interest  and  curiosity.  Though 
unwilling,  generally,  to  speak  of  his  adventures,  he 
would,  when  his  confidence  was  obtained,  describe  them 
with  a  graphic  particularity  and  coloring,  which  gave  an 
insight  into  conditions  of  life  and  phases  of  character, 
of  which  we  can  now  only  see  the  outside.  He  always 
extenuated  his  conduct  at  Fort  Mims  and  during  the 
war,  under  the  plea  that  the  first  transgressions  were 
committted  by  the  white  people,  and  that  he  was 
fighting  for  the  liberties  of  his  nation.  He  also  asserted 
that  he  was  reluctantly  forced  into  the  war,  as  has  been 
described. 

There  are  many  characteristic  anecdotes  of  Weather- 
ford,  in  the  last  years  of  his  life.  We  can  preserve 
but  one.  A  desperado  named  Callier,  had  committed 
a  murder  at  Claiborne,  and  being  armed,  refused  to 
be  taken  by  the  sheriff,  and  swore  he  would  kill  any 
man  who  approached  him.  The  posse  had  been  sum 
moned,  but  were  deterred  by  the  threats  of  the 
criminal.  At  last,  it  was  suggested  that  Weatherford 
was  in  the  village,  and  if  summoned  would  take  him. 
The  sheriff  sought  the  chief,  and,  informing  him  of  the 

O  /  7  O 

circumstances,  asked  if  he  would  make  the  attempt  ? 
"  If  you  order  me,  I  will  do  my  duty,"  was  the  reply. 
"  Then  I  order  you  to  take  him,  dead  or  alive," — said 
the  sheriff,  and  the  two  proceeded  to  the  ground.  Callier 
was  standing  in  an  open  square,  with  a  drawn  butcher- 
knife  in  his  hand.  Weatherford,  loosening  a  knife 
which  he  wore  in  his  girdle,  immediately  approached 
him,  and  ordered  him  to  surrender.  He  replied  only 
in  a  husky  voice,  "  Keep  off ! "  Nothing  daunted, 


292  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

Weatherford  marched  immediately  up  to  him  ;  he 
dropped  the  point  of  his  knife ;  it  was  wrested  from 
his  hand;  and  he  was  delivered,  a  prisoner,  to  the 
officers  of  the  law.  Weatherford,  "being  asked  of  his 
design  in  case  of  resistance,  replied  :  "I  fixed  my  eye 
upon  his  as  I  approached,  and,  if  he  had  moved  a  muscle 
to  strike,  I  should  have  dodged  his  blow,  and  cut  his 
throat  before  he  recovered."  There  is  no  doubt  the 
chief  understood  the  business  he  was  about. 

Weatherford  continued  to  reside  at  his  plantation 
until  the  spring  of  1824.  In  that  year,  we  find  the 
following  notice  in  a  Mobile  paper,  with  which  we 
may  draw  our  sketch  to  a  close  : 

"  William  Weatherford,  the  celebrated  savage  war 
rior,  is,  at  length,  vanquished, — the  destroyer  is  con 
quered, — the  hand,  which  so  profusely  dealt  death 
and  desolation  among  the  whites,  is  now  paralyzed, — 
it  is  motionless.  He  died  at  his  late  residence  near 
Montpelier,  in  this  State,  on  the  9th  of  March  instant. 
His  deeds  of  war  are  well  known  to  the  early  settlers 
in  South  Alabama,  and  will  be  remembered  by  them 
while  they  live,  and  be  talked  of,  with  horror,  by  gen 
erations  yet  unborn.  But  his  dauntless  spirit  has 
taken  its  flight  :  he  is  gone  to  the  land  of  his  fathers." 

Weatherford  left  behind  him,  a  large  family  of  chil 
dren.  They  have  now  grown  to  years  of  maturity  ; 
have  intermarried  with  our  own  population,  and  are 
highly  respected  for  many  excellent  traits  of  character. 
A  grand-nephew  of  his  is  now  the  United  States7 
Consul  at  Cadiz,  in  Spain.  No  monument  marks  the 
spot  where  the  remains  of  the  distinguished  chieftain 


OR    THE    RED    EAGLE.  293 

were  deposited,'-'  but  yet  no  unfit  inscription  for  his 
grave  might  be  found  in  the  words  which  Wordsworth 
has  applied  to  Rob  Boy  : — 

"  And  thou,  although  with  some  wild  thoughts, 

Wild  chieftain  of  a  savage  clan, 
Hads't  this  to  boast,  that  thou  didst  love 
The  liberty  of  man  !" 


*  Recently,  arrangements  have  been  made  by  the  descendants  of 
Weatherford,  to  erect  a  monument  to  his  memory,  with  suitable  in 
scriptions. 


THE   CANOE   FIGHT; 

WITH  A  SKETCH  OF  THE  FIRST  AMERICAN  SETTLE 
MENTS  IN  THE  INTERIOR  OF  ALABAMA,  AND  OF 
MANY  ROMANTIC  AND  SANGUINARY  INCIDENTS  IN 
THE  CREEK  WAR.  ALSO,  BIOGRAPHIES  OF  GEN 
ERAL  SAM.  DALE,  JERE.  AUSTILL,  AND  JAMES 
SMITH,  THE  HEROES  OF  THAT  FIGHT. 


" The  aged  crone 

Recounts  the  scenes  of  strife  and  daring  gone: 
Tells  how  the  Indian  scalped  the  helpless  child, 
And  bore  the  shrieking  mother  to  the  wild, — 
Butchered  the  father  hastening  to  his  home, 
Seeking  his  cottage,  finding  but  a  tomb." 

J.  G.  C.  BRAIXARD. 

THERE  has  seldom  occurred  in  border  warfare,  a 
more  romantic  incident  than  the  one  known  in  Alabama 
tradition,  as  the  Canoe  Fight.  History  has  almost 
overlooked  it,  as  too  minute  in  its  details  for  her 
stately  "  philosophy."  Yet,  for  singularity  of  event, 
novelty  of  position,  boldness  of  design,  and  effective 
personal  fortitude  and  prowess,  it  is  unsurpassed,  if 
equalled,  by  anything  in  backwoods  chronicles,  how- 


296  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

ever  replete  these  may  be  with  the  adventures  of  pio 
neers,  the  sufferings  of  settlers,  and  the  achievements 
of  that  class  who  seem  almost  to  have  combined  the 
life  and  manners  of  the  freebooter  with  the  better  vir 
tues  of  social  man.  A  detailed  account  will  illustrate 
somewhat  of  this,  and  show,  partially  at  least,  the 
characteristics  of  the  first  white  settlers,  along  the 
Alabama  and  Tombeckbee,  and  the  difficulties  they 
encountered  and  overcame. 

The  Canoe  Fight  was  one  of  the  early  consequences 
of  the  massacre  at  Fort  Mims.  The  friends  and  rela 
tives  of  the  sufferers  in  that  sanguinary  affair  were 
roused  to  almost  savage  indignation  and  hostility. 
They  were  men  well  calculated,  both  by  nature  and 
habits  of  life,  to  meet  such  an  emergency.  With  no 
dependence  but  the  axe  and  the  rifle,  they  had  brought 
their  families  through  the  wilderness,  and  made  them 
homes  upon  the  table-plains  and  rich  alluvial  bottoms 
of  our  two  principal  streams.  The  character  and 
habits  of  the  Indians,  they  understood  well ;  their 
stratagems  in  warfare,  their  guile  and  cunning.  With 
a  flexibility  of  nature,  that  still  retained  its  superiority, 
they  accommodated  themselves  to  these,  and  were  pre 
pared,  as  far  as  their  limited  numbers  would  go,  for 
the  necessities  of  either  peace  or  war.  To  a  spectator, 
the  strange  buckskin  garb,  the  hunting-shirt,  leggings 
and  moccasins,  the  long  and  heavy  rifle,  the  large  knife 
swinging  by  the  shot-bag,  the  proud,  erect  deportment, 
but  cautious  tread,  and  the  keen,  far-seeing,  but  appa 
rently  passive  eye,  of  the  settler  in  the  fork  of  the  Ala 
bama  and  Tombeckbee,  upon  the  Tensaw,  or  about 


THE    CANOE    FIGHT.  297 

Fort  St.  Stephens,  would  have  spoken  much  of  the 
moral  energies  and  purposes  of  the  man.  Of  such  an 
order  were  most  of  those  who  determined  to  avenge 
the  butchery  of  their  neighbors,  by  Weatherford,  at 
Fort  Minis. 

But  before  proceeding  to  narrate  the  particulars  of 
the  Canoe  Fight,  we  will  look  at  the  situation  of  the 
settlements  in  the  interior  of  Alabama,  more  immedi 
ately  connected  with  that  event,  and  narrate  some  of 
the  more  interesting  incidents  in  their  history,  which 
led  to  the  singular  and  sanguinary  occurrence.  They 
are  in  themselves  sufficiently  romantic  to  attract  and 
repay  perusal. 

The  extensive  delta,  forming  Clarke  County,  was 
originally  obtained  from  the  Choctaws,  by  the  British, 
under  a  treaty  made  at  Mobile,  the  26th  of  March,  1765. 
The  boundary  of  the  entire  British  acquisitions  in  West 
Florida  was  then  designated  as  follows  :  "  by  a  line 
extended  from  Grosse  Point,  in  the  island  of  Mon 
Louis,  by  the  course  of  the  western  coast  of  Mobile  Bay, 
to  the  mouth  of  the  eastern  branch  of  Tombeckbee 
River,  and  north,  by  the  course  of  the  said  river,  to  the 
confluence  of  Alebamont  and  Tombeckbee  Eivers,  and 
afterwards  along  the  western  bank  of  Alebamont  River 
to  the  mouth  of  Chickasaw  River,  and  from  the  con 
fluence  of  Chickasaw  and  Alebamont  Rivers,  a  straight 
line  to  the  confluence  of  Bance  and  Tombeckbee  Rivers  ; 
from  thence,  by  a  line  along  the  western  bank  of  Bance 
River,  till  its  confluence  with  the  Tallotkpe  River  ; 
from  thence,  by  a  straight  line,  to  Tombeckbee  River, 
opposite  to  Alchalickpe  ;  and  from  Alchalickpe.  by  a 


298  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

straight  line,  to  the  most  northerly  part  of  Buckatanne 
River,  and  down  the  course  of  Buckatanne  River  to  its 
confluence  to  the  Eiver  Pascagoula,  and  down  by  the 
course  of  the  River  Pascagoula,  within  twelve  leagues 
of  the  sea  coast ;  and  thence,  by  a  due  west  line,  as  far 
as  the  Choctaw  nation  have  a  right  to  grant." 

This  treaty  was  signed  by  George  Johnstone, 
Governor  of  West  Florida,  John  Stewart,  Superinten 
dent  of  the  Southern  District,  and  twenty-nine  Kings 
and  Chiefs  of  Indians. *  It  is  now  mainly  interesting 
as  preserving  the  names  by  which  several  of  our  prin 
cipal  rivers  were  aboriginally  known.  The  Alabama 
below  the  junction  was  called  the  Tombeckbee ;  the 
Cahaba  was  styled  the  Chickasaw,  and  the  Black 
Warrior  the  Bance.  The  Choctaws,  also,  claimed 
much  farther  to  the  east  than  was  then  or  subsequently 
recognized  by  the  Creeks. 

But  few  white  men  penetrated  into  this  region  dur 
ing  the  British  and  Spanish  times,  and  when  the 
Americans  began  to  take  possession,  about  the  com 
mencement  of  the  present  century,  they  had  to  deter 
mine  a  new  line  with  the  conflicting  Indian  claimants. 
This  was  done  in  a  treaty,  made  by  Silas  Dinsmoor  and 
James  Robertson,  U.  S.  Commissioners,  at  Mount 
Dexter,  in  November,  1805.  The  .new  boundary  of 
the  white  possessions  was  a  line  running  north  from 
Nanahubba,  or  the  Cut-Off  Island,  along  the  dividing 
ridge  between  the  Alabama  and  Tombeckbee  waters,  to 
the  "  Choctaw  Corner,"  and  thence  westwardly  to  the 
mouth  of  Fluctabunna  Creek  on  the  Tombeckbee. 


*  American  State  Papers,  Public  Lands,  v.  814. 


THE    CANOE    FIGHT.  299 

Within  the  diminished  area,  thus  acquired,  emi 
grants,  from  South  Carolina,  Georgia,  and  Tennessee, 
poured  rapidly  for  the  first  twelve  years  of  di<>  present 
century.  These  were  the  people  destined  to  encounter 
the  savage  hostilities  of  the  Creeks,  after  the  Fall  of 
Fort  Minis,  and  whose  characteristics  have  been  de 
scribed.  Those  nearest  the  border  speedily  erected 
stockade  defences,  and  took  refuge  in  them,  with  their 
families,  servants,  and  moveable  chattels  and  effects. 
Fort  Sinquefield  was  erected  a  short  distance  north 
east  of  Grove  Hill,  the  present  Court  House  of  Clarke 
county  ;  Fort  White,  some  miles  west  of  it ;  and  Fort 
Glass,  fifteen  miles  to  the  south,  upon  the  dividing 
ridge  between  Cedar  and  Bassett's  Creeks,  and  about 
three  miles  south  from  the  present  village  of  Suggs- 
ville.  They  received  their  names  from  the  settlers 
upon  whose  premises  they  were  established,  and  were 
densely  crowded  by  the  terrified  inhabitants. 

Around  these  border  forts  or  stations,  the  hostile 
Indians  were  continually  prowling, — burning  and  lay 
ing  waste  the  farms,  killing  the  cattle,  and  murdering 
every  white  person  they  could  meet.  The  utmost 
terror  and  insecurity  prevailed. 

To  give  protection  to  these  settlements,  General 
Floyd,  of  Georgia,  then  in  command  of  the  South 
western  forces  of  the  United  States,  ordered  General 
Claiborne,  in  July,  1813,  to  march  his  command  of 
Mississippi  Twelve-months'  Volunteers,  to  Fort  Stod- 
clart,  and  thence  to  yield  assistance  to  the  most  ex 
posed  points  to  the  east.  At  the  close  of  that  month,  he 
arrived  with  seven  hundred  men,  and  sent  two  hundred 


300  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

of  them  under  Col.  Joseph  E.  Carson,  a  gallant  volun 
teer,  who  lived  near  Mount  Vernon,  to  the  relief  of 
Fort  Glass,  which  he  rebuilt  near  by  and  called  Fort 
Madison  in  honor  of  the  President.  The  refugee 
settlers  in  this  station  were  under  the  command  of 
Captain  Evan  Austill,  a  native  of  North  Carolina, 
who  had  emigrated  to  this  section,  the  year  before, 
and  located  on  a  farm  three  miles  from  the  fort. 

Within  two  days  after  the  massacre  at  Fort  Minis, 
a  large  body  of  warriors,  under  Francis,  the  Prophet, 
appeared  in  the  vicinity  of  Fort  Sinquefield,  the  most 
exposed  station,  and  massacred  twelve  members  of  the 
families  of  Abner  James  and  Ransom  Kimball,  who 
rashly  remained  at  the  residence  of  the  latter,  two 
miles  from  the  fort.  Five  persons  escaped,  one  of 
whom  was  Isham  Kimball,  then  a  boy  of  sixteen,  af 
terwards  Clerk  of  the  Circuit  Court  of  Clarke  County, 
where  he  still  resides.  Another  was  Mrs.  Sarah  Merrill, 
a  married  daughter  of  Abner  James,  who  was  destined 
to  have  a  romantic  history.  She  was  knocked  down 
by  the  Indians,  scalped  and  left  for  dead.  In  the 
night,  she  revived,  and,  groping  among  the  corpses, 
found  her  infant  son,  not  a  year  old,  who  was  also 
scalped,  and  apparently  lifeless.  With  the  utmost 
exertion,  she  made  her  way  to  the  Fort,  where  she  and 
her  infant  were  gradually  restored  to  health.  Her 
husband  was  at  this  time  absent,  with  the  troops  under 
Claiborne,  and,  on  the  march  to  the  Holy  Ground, 
heard  that  his  wife  and  children  were  both  slain.  In 
the  Battle  at  that  place,  he  was  severely  wounded 


THE    CANOE    FIGHT.  301 

and  reported  as  dead ;  but  recovering,  made  his  way  to 
Tennessee. 

Each  party  thus  believing  the  other  dead,  Mrs. 
Merrill,  some  years  after,  married,  and  became  the 
mother  of  a  large  family,  residing  in  Clarke  County, 
near  the  Choctaw  Corner.  She  was  happy,  and  some 
of  her  children  had  grown  to  maturity,  when  one 
evening  a  traveler  with  his  family,  a  matronly  wife 
and  several  children,  stopped  at  the  house  of  Mrs. 
Merrill.  Great  was  her  astonishment  and  consterna 
tion  to  find  in  the  stranger  her  first  husband ;  and  his, 
none  the  less,  to  recognize  his  former  wife.  An  expla 
nation  ensued,  and,  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties,  it 
was  agreed  that  matters  should  remain  as  they  had 
been  providentially  disposed.  The  traveler  went  on 
his  way  to  Texas,  and  Mrs.  Merrill  continues  to  reside 
in  Clarke,  esteemed  and  respected  by  all  who  know 
her. 

The  news  of  the  massacre  of  these  families,  reaching 
Fort  Madison,  a  detachment  of  ten  men,  among 
whom  were  James  Smith,  John  Wood,  and  Isaac  Ha- 
den,  were  sent  to  the  spot.  They  found  the  bodies  of 
the  dead,  and  took  them  to  Sinquefield  for  burial. 
While  the  whole  garrison  of  that  little  station,  includ 
ing  the  women  and  children,  were  outside  of  the  fort, 
engaged  in  this  ceremony,  Francis  ^and  his  warriors  sud 
denly  rushed  down  towards  them  from  behind  a  neigh 
boring  hill.  All  escaped  in  safety  to  the  fort,  except  a 
few  women  who  had  gone  some  distance  to  a  spring. 
Seeing  the  Indians  about  to  intercept  these,  Haden, 
who  happened  to  be  on  horse-back,  with  a  large  pack  of 


302  SKETCHES  AND  ESSAYS. 

dogs,  whicli  he  kept  for  hunting,  immediately  dashed 
forward,  and  cheered  his  dogs,  with  many  others  from 
the  fort,  numbering  in  all  about  sixty,  to  an  assault 
upon  the  savages.  Never  did  a  pack  of  English  hounds 
leap  more  furiously  upon  a  captured  fox,  than  did 
these  wild  curs  upon  the  naked  Indians.  The  neces 
sity  of  defence  against  their  strange  foes,  checked  the 
savage  onset,  and  all  the  women,  but  one,  a  Mrs.  Phil 
lips,  who  was  overtaken  and  scalped,  escaped  with 
Haden  into  the  fort.  His  horse  was  killed  under  him, 
and  he  had  five  bullets  through  his  clothes,  but  re 
ceived  no  wound. 

The  incensed  Francis  and  his  followers  now  made 
a  furious  attack  upon  the  fort,  but  were  repulsed  with 
a  considerable  loss.  Only  one  man  and  a  boy  of  the 
defenders  were  slain.  The  Indians,  having  drawn  off, 
the  occupants  of  Sinquefield  that  night  stealthily  aban 
doned  the  place  and  fled  to  Fort  Madison. 

Meanwhile,  Col.  Carson  had  despatched  Jerry  Au 
still,  a  youth  of  nineteen,  to  Gen.  Claiborne,  at  Fort 
Stoddart,  for  aid  to  drive  away  the  Indians,  who  had 
killed  one  of  his  men,  named  Stewart,  within  five  hun 
dred  yards  of  the  gate.  The  youthful  emissary  trav 
eled  through  the  woods  all  night,  and  reached  the 
General  at  day-break,  greatly  to  his  surprise  and  ad 
miration.  No  assistance,  however,  could  be  sent,  and 
Austill  bore  back  an  order  to  Carson  to  evacuate  his 
defences  and  retire,  with  the  inhabitants,  to  St. 
Stephens. 

This  order  produced  the  greatest  dissatisfaction,  and 
Captain  Evan  Austill,  the  father  of  our  young  hero, 


THE    CANOE    FIGHT.  303 

and  fifty  other  men,  with  their  families,  determined  to 
remain.  Four  hundred  persons  left  with  Cm-son's 
command,  amid  a  scene  of  great  distress  and  lamenta 
tion  at  the  separation  of  friends  and  relatives,  who 
never  expected  to  meet  again.  The  little  garrison  re 
maining  behind,  protected  themselves  with  the  utmost 
vigilance,  until  at  length  Clairborne  again  despatched 
Carson's  command  to  re-possess  the  fort. 

During  the  occupation  of  Fort  Madison,  frequent 
parties  of  the  more  adventurous  woodsmen  made  scout 
ing  excursions  into  the  surrounding  country,  to  watch 
the  proceedings  of  the  Indians.  One  of  these  advanced 
across  the  Alabama,  as  far  as  the  destroyed  residence 
of  Cornells  on  Burnt  Corn  Creek,  at  the  crossing  of 
the  Pensacola  road.  This  party  consisted  of  Tandy 
Walker,  formerly  the  Government  blacksmith  at  St. 
Stephens,  but  a  most  experienced  and  daring  back 
woodsman  ;  George  Foster,  an  expert  hunter ;  and  a 
bold  quadroon  mulatto,  named  Evans.  When  near 
the  place,  Evans  dismounted,  and,  leaving  Ifps  horse 
with  his  companions,  stealthily  approached  to  make 
observations.  In  a  field,  he  saw  an  Indian,  at  a  short 
distance,  digging  potatoes.  He  at  once  shot  him,  and, 
after  some  minutes,  not  seeing  any  other  Indians,  he 
entered  the  field  and  took  the  scalp  of  his  victim. 
Returning  to  his  companions,  they  examined  the 
premises  and  found,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  field, 
the  camp  and  baggage  of  a  considerable  party  of  Indians 
who  had  fled  at  the  sound  of  Evans'  gun.  With  this 
booty,  the  three  adventurers  now  hastened  towards  the 
Alabama.  At  Sizemore's  deserted  old  place,  near  th« 


304  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

river,  they  found  a  field  of  corn  nearly  ripe,  with  a 
plenty  of  fine  grass.  Though  they  saw  many  fresh 
moccasin  tracks  and  other  signs  of  Indians,  they  deter 
mined  to  stop  here  to  feed  their  horses  and  to  pass  the 
night.  They  accordingly  went  a  short  distance  into 
the  field,  and,  as  it  was  a  cool  November  evening, 
kindled  a  small  fire  and  laid  down  to  sleep.  In  the 
night,  Foster  had  a  strange  and  alarming  dream,  or 
"  vision,"  as  he  termed  it,  which  awoke  him  and  filled 
him  with  apprehension.  Arousing  his  comrades,  and 
telling  his  dream,  he  urged  them  to  leave  the  spot, 
as  he  felt  they  were  in  danger  there  from  the  Indians. 
They  made  light  of  his  fears,  and  lapsed  back  into 
slumber.  He  however  arose,  and  going  still  farther 
into  the  field,  threw  himself  down  in  the  high  grass, 
and  went  to  sleep.  At  the  dawn  of  day,  he  was  roused 
by  a  volley  of  guns  fired  upon  his  companions,  and  fled 
with  all  haste  into  a  neighboring  cane-brake,  through 
which  he  made  his  way  to  the  river,  and  swimming  it, 
safely  inched  the  fort. 

After  two  days  Tandy  Walker  came  in,  severely 
wounded, — his  arm  being  broken  by  several  balls,  and  his 
side  badly  bruised  by  a  ball  which  struck  a  butcher- 
knife  in  his  belt.  It  appeared  that  the  Indians  had  waited 
until  the  first  faint  light  of  day  to  make  their  attack. 
They  then  fired  some  five  or  six  guns  and  rushed  for 
ward  with  their  knives.  Evans  was  killed ;  but  Walker, 
though  wounded,  sprang  from  the  ground,  and  ran 
through  the  corn  and  high  grass.  Being  very  swift  of 
foot,  he  outstripped  his  pursuers,  and  soon  got  into 
the  cane-brake,  where  he  lay  concealed  till  night, 


THE    CANOE    FIGHT.  305 

suffering  greatly  from  his  wounds.  Then  he  proceeded 
to  the  river,  and  making  a  raft  of  canes,  to  which  he 
hung  by  his  well  arm,  swam  across  the  river.  He  was 
so  feeble  from  the  loss  of  blood  and  from  pain,  that  it 
took  him  all  that  night  and  the  next  day  to  reach  Fort 
Madison. 

Shortly  before  this  occurrence,  Col.  Willian  McGrew, 
with  twenty-five  mounted  men,  had  fought  a  battle 
with  a  party  of  Indians,  on  Tallahatta  or  Barshi  Creek, 
near  the  northern  boundary,  in  which  he  with  three  of 
his  company  was  killed  ;  and  Gen.  Claiborne,  with  a 
small  command  of  Mississippi  volunteers,  under  Major 
Hinds,  had  traversed  the  country  as  far  as  Baker's 
Bluff,  on  the  Alabama,  losing  in  a  skirmish  Capt. 
William  Bradberry,  a  young  lawyer,  who  had  distin 
guished  himself  at  Burnt  Corn. 

The  inmates  of  Fort  Madison,  incensed  at  these  san 
guinary  events,  and  satisfied  that  the  body  of  the  hostile 
Indians  was  now  south  of  the  Alabama,  extending  their 
depredations  upon  the  plantations  along  that  river,  de 
termined  to  make  an  expedition  against  them.  This 
was  at  once  organized ;  consisting  of  thirty  "  Mississippi 
twelve-months'  yauger  men,"  commanded  by  Capt. 
Richard  Jones,  from  near"  Natchez,  where  he  now  re 
sides,  and  forty-two  volunteers,  from  the  "settlers" 
themselves,  commanded  by  Capt.  Samuel  Dale,  who 
also  had  command  of  the  expedition.  A  bolder  or  a 
finer  set  of  men,  for  such  a  service,  never  swung  their 
shot-bags  by  their  sides,  or  grasped  their  long  and 
trusty  rifles.  It  may  be  well  to  look  particularly  at 


306  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

the  character  of  three,  who  were  destined  to  act  the 
most  conspicuous  part  in  the  events  that  are  to  follow. 

SAMUEL    DALE. 

Was  there  ever  a  more  Herculean  figure  than 
SAMUEL  DALE,  then  in  the  noon  and  fulness  of  man 
hood  ?  He  stood  a  giant  among  his  fellows, — already 
distinguished  by  feats  of  prowess,  daring  and  enter 
prise,  that  had  made  his  name  known  throughout  the 
frontiers,  and  caused  him  to  be  dreaded  more  than  any 
other  white  man  by  the  Indians.  They  called  him,  in 
their  simple  tongue,  Sam  Thlucco,  or  Big  Sam. 
Descended  from  Irish  lineage,  he  was  born  in  Rock- 
bridge  County,  Virginia,  in  1772.  Twelve  years  after, 
his  parents  removed  to  Green  County,  Georgia,  then 
on  the  border  of  the  hostile  Creeks.  Here,  among 
continued  troubles  and  bloody  forays,  he  grew  to  man 
hood,  the  eldest  of  eight  children,  left  orphans  by  the 
death  of  both  their  parents.  In  1794,  he  joined  Capt. 
Fosh's  troop  stationed  at  Fort  Matthews  on  the 
Oconee,  and  distinguished  himself,  in  several  encoun 
ters,  for  his  courage,  enterprise,  and  masterly  knowledge 
of  Indian  character.  On  one  occasion,  when  out  as  a 
solitary  scout,  at  a  great  distance  from  the  fort,  he 
stopped  at  a  spring  to  drink,  and,  as  he  knelt  down 
for  that  purpose,  two  Muscogee  warriors  leaped  from 
behind  a  log  and  sprung  upon  him,  with  their  knives 
and  tomahawks.  Throwing  one  of  them  over  his  head, 
he  grappled  with  the  other,  and  plunged  his  knife  in 
his  body.  Both  of  them  now  closed,  but  Dale,  by  his 


THE   CANOE    FIGHT.  307 

great  strength  and  dexterity,  in  a  few  seconds  laid  them 
dead  at  his  feet.  Though  wounded  himself  in  five 
places,  he  retraced  their  trail  nine  miles,  to  their  camp, 
where  he  saw  three  warriors  asleep,  with  a  white  female 
prisoner.  Bushing  suddenly  upon  them  he  slew  them 
all,  and  turning,  had  just  cut  the  thongs  of  the  woman, 
when  a  fourth  warrior  sprang  from  behind  a  tree,  knife 
in  hand,  upon  the  bent  body  of  the  wounded  and  ex 
hausted  Dale,  and  brought  him  to  the  ground.  With 
a  wild  scream  of  vengeance,  the  savage  swung  aloft  his 
knife  to  give  the  deadly  blow,  when  the  woman,  who 
had  seized  a  tomahawk,  dashed  it  into  his  head,  and 
he  fell  lifeless  upon  the  body  of  her  preserver.  They 
then  safely  proceeded  to  Fort  Matthews. 

Elected  Colonel,  Dale  was  advanced  to  the  com 
mand  of  a  frontier  post  on  the  Apalachy,  where  he 
made  himself  the  terror  of  the  Ked  Men,  and  the 
shield  of  the  settlements,  till  McGrillivray  concluded 
peace  with  Washington  at  New  York. 

Frontier  tastes  and  aptitudes  now  converted  the 
young  soldier  into  an  Indian  trader,  and  we  find  him 
among  the  Cherokees  and  Creeks,  exchanging  calicoes, 
gewgaws,  ammunition,  fire-waters,  &c.,  brought  from 
Savannah  and  Augusta,  for  peltries  and  ponies.  The 
profits  of  this  trade  were  exorbitant,  and  would  have 
enriched  Dale,  but  he  was  as  thriftless  as  he  was  ad 
venturous  and  brave. 

Desirous  of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  settle 
ments  upon  the  Tombeckbee,  Big  Sam  made  his  way 
thither  about  the  year  1808,  accompanied  by  a  party 
of  emigrants,  among  whom  was  his  younger  brother, 


308  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

James  Dale,  like  himself  a  bold  and  powerful  man, 
but  who  had  been  unfortunately  wounded  in  one  of 
the  knees,  so  that  a  contraction  of  the  muscle  took 
place,  making  one  leg  two  or  three  inches  shorter  than 
the  other. 

A  series  of  expeditions  to  and  from  Georgia,  in  which 
he  acted  as  guide  for  travelers  and  emigrating  parties, 
with  occasional  protracted  loiterings  in  the  Indian 
villages,  taking  part  in  their  athletic  sports  and  games, 
and  surpassing  their  swiftest  and  most  powerful  cham 
pions,  now  engaged  our  hero  for  a  number  of  years. 
He  also  acted  as  a  spy  for  our  government,  upon  the 
operations  of  the  Spaniards  at  Pensacola  and  Mobile, 
who,  at  the  instigation  of  the  British,  were  constantly 
exciting  the  Indians  to  hostility.  In  this  capacity,  he 
was  greatly  useful  in  counteracting  the  schemes  of  a 
notorious  English  emissary  named  Elliott,  who  was 
most  energetic  in  fomenting  discord.  He  also  encoun 
tered  Tecumseh,  in  the  Tuckabatchee  towns  on  the 
Tallapoosa,  and  first  apprised  the  incredulous  Hawkins, 
the  United  States  agent,  of  the  schemes  of  that  bold 
and  ambitious  chieftain. 

Dale  was  at  the  house  of  Colonel  Joseph  Phillips,  at 
Jackson,  on  theTombeckbee,in  July,  1813,  when  James 
Cornells,  mounted  on  a  fast-flying  grey  horse,  brought 
the  intelligence  that  a  large  body  of  hostile  warriors 
from  the  towns  on  the  Tallapoosa,  had  burnt  his  house 
and  corn-cribs,  at  a  creek,  afterwards  called  Burnt 
Corn,  from  that  event,  and  taken  his  wife  prisoner  to 
Pensacola,  where  they  had  gone  to  receive  arms  and 
ammunition  from  the  Spaniards  and  British.  The 


THE    CANOE    FIGHT.  309 

startled  settlements  at  once  sprung  to  arms,  and  marched 
under  Col.  James  Callier,  to  cut  off  the  Indians  on 
their  return.  In  this  expedition,  Dale  was  Captain  of 
the  company  from  Clarke  county.  The  unfortunate 
result  of  the  battle  is  narrated  elsewhere.  But  Dale 
performed  miracles  of  valor,  and  was  one  of  the  last  to 
leave  the  field,  which  he  did  not  do  until  he  received  a 
severe  wound  in  the  breast,  from  a  rifle  ball,  which 
glanced  around  a  rib  and  came  out  at  his  back.  For 
several  weeks  he  suffered  greatly  from  this  wound,  but 
at  length  fully  recovered  so  as  to  take  part  in  the  expe 
dition  we  are  proceeding  to  describe. 

JAMES    SMITH. 

In  Dale's  command  was  a  private  soldier,  who  al 
ready  had  a  high  reputation  as  an  expert,  daring,  and 
powerful  Indian  fighter.  Born  in  Georgia,  in  1787, 
this  scion  of  the  universal  Smith  family  was  now  a  very 
stout,  finely  proportioned  man,  five  feet  eight  inches 
high,  weighing  one  hundred  and  sixty  pounds.  Re 
siding  near  Fort  Madison,  he  took  refuge  there  at  the 
outbreak  of  the  war.  His  fearless  and  adventurous 
character  may  be  indicated  by  an  incident.  One  day 
he  determined  to  visit  his  farm,  about  eight  miles  dis 
tant,  to  see  what  injury  the  Indians  had  done.  Pro 
ceeding  cautiously,  he  came  to  a  house  in  which  he 
heard  a  noise,  and,  stealing  up  to  the  door,  he  found 
two  Indians  engaged  in  bundling  up  tools  and  other 
articles,  to  carry  them  off.  Leveling  his  gun  at  them, 
he  made  them  come  out  of  the  house,  and  march  be- 


310  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

fore  him  towards. the  Fort.  In  a  thicket  of  woods,  the 
Indians  suddenly  separated,  one  on  each  hand,  and  ran. 
Smith  fired  at  one  of  them  and  killed  him,  and,  drop 
ping  his  rifle,  pursued  the  other,  and,  catching  him, 
knocked  him  down  with  a  light  wood-knot,  and  beat 
out  his  brains:  Recovering  his  gun,  he  went  on  to 
the  Fort,  and  announced  the  adventure,  which  a  par 
ty,  who  were  sent  out,  discovered  to  be  true. 

This,  and  similar  deeds  of  daring  and  prowess,  gave 
James  Smith  a  high  position  among  his  frontier  friends 
and  neighbors,  as  he  took  his  place,  rifle  in  hand,  with 
buckskin  garb,  in  the  ranks  of  Captain  Dale's  adven 
turous  volunteers* 

JEREMIAH     AUSTILL. 

That  tall,  slender,  sinewy  youth  of  nineteen,  six 
feet  two  inches  high,  erect  .and  spirited  in  port,  dark 
complexioned,  eagle-eyed,  is  the  son  of  a  gallant  sire, 
who,  even  since  hostilities  commenced,  had  made  his 
way  back  from  Georgia,  through  the  heart  of  the  Creek 
nation,  swimming  the  streams,  and  stealing  through 
the  woods,  to  his  family,  in  Fort  Madison,  there  to  as- 
assume,  by  election,  the  temporary  command.  Such 
was  Evan  Austill,  a  native  of  North  Carolina,  and  the 
son  was  worthy  of  the  sire.  "Jerry"  was  born  in 
Pendleton  District,  South  Carolina,  the  10th  of  Au 
gust,  1794.  Four  years  after,  his  father  went  as  a 
gunsmith,  with  Silas  Dinsmore,  the  agent  to  the  Cher- 
okees,  to  reside  in  the  nation.  In  1813,  the  family 
removed  to  the  vicinity  of  Fort  Madison.  Driven 


THE    CANOE    FIGHT.  311 

from  their  residence  by  the  Indians,  during  the  absence 
of  his  father,  young  Austill  returned  to  the  spot,  put 
up  the  fences,  and  kept  a  close  guard,  lying  at  night 
in  the  grass,  or  thick  undergrowth  near  the  farm,  to 
protect  the  growing  crop  from  the  depredations  of 
straggling  Indians. 

We  have  seen  how  he  was  sent,  soon  after,  for  as 
sistance  to  General  Claiborne,  and  how  gallantly  he 
performed  that  hazardous  service.  On  one  occasion 
he  was  dispatched  with  a  party  of  five,  to  guard  a 
wagon  to  a  mill  for  meal.  On  their  return,  a  fire 
was  opened  on  a  party  of  Indians,  from  the  opposite 
side  of  the  fort,  at  which  all  of  the  guard,  save  Austill, 
immediately  fled  from  the  wagon.  With  character 
istic  firmness  and  fidelity,  he  remained,  and  no  assault 
being  made,  drove  the  wagon,  with  its  precious  con 
tents,  in  safety  to  the  fort,  amidst  the  applause  of  the 
garrison,  who  derided  his  timid  companions. 

"  Jerry,"  was  now  very,  little  more  than  a  boy  in 
age,  but  his  skill  as  a  marksman,  his  swiftness  of  foot, 
his  dauntless  courage,  and  his  deep  knowledge  of  In 
dian  schemes  and  cunning,  acquired  among  the 
Cherokees,  render  him  one  of  the  most  useful 
and  manly  of  the  frontier  defenders.  We  have 
said  that  he  was  slender,  but  look  at  his  muscular 
limbs,  as  revealed  through  his  hunting  shirt  closely 
girdled  around  his  waist,  and  his  tight  leather  leggings, 
and  you  may  appreciate  that  his  frame,  weighing  as 
it  did  one  hundred  and  seventy  pounds,  is  possessed  of 
all  those  powers  which  are  most  serviceable  in  the 
hardships  and  encounters  of  backwoods  warfare. 


312  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

These  three,  Dale,  Smith  and  Austill,  were  the 
leading  spirits  in  the  expedition,  fitted  out  under  the 
command  of  Dale,  for  the  exploration  of  the  country 
along  the  Alabama  Elver.  The  party  left  Fort  Mad 
ison  on  the  llth  of  November,  1813.  It  proceeded 
southeasterly,  under  the  guidance  of  Tandy  Walker 
and  George  Foster,  of  whom  we  have  spoken,  to  a  point 
on  the  river,  two  miles  below  "  Bailey's  Shoals/'  and 
about  eighteen  miles  below  the  present  town  of  Clai- 
borne.  Here  they  found  two  canoes,  carefully  con 
cealed  in  the  inlet  of  a  small  creek,  in  which  the 
entire  party  crossed  to  the  eastern  bank,  and  passed 
the  night  in  concealment  and  under  arms,  no  one  be 
ing  allowed  to  sleep.  They  were  at  this  point  with 
in  thirty  miles  of  the  ruins  of  Fort  Minis. 

The  next  morning  the  party  ascended  the  river ; 
Austill  with  six  men  in  the  canoes  ;  and  Dale,  with 
the  remainder,  through  the  woods  upon  the  eastern 
bank.  No  signs,  of  Indians  were  discovered  until 
their  arrival  at  "  Peggy  Bailey's  Bluff, "  three  miles 
above.  Pursuing  these,  which  led  up  the  river,  Dale, 
being  in  advance  of  his  men,  soon  came  upon  a  party 
of  ten  Indians,  who  were,  with  all  imaginary  security, 
partaking  of  a  bountiful  breakfast.  His  unfailing 
rifle  dismissed  them  without  a  benediction  ;  the  chief, 
a  noted  warrior,  being  slain,  and  his  followers,  in  their 
hurried  flight,  leaving  their  well-stored  pack  of  pro 
visions  behind  them. 

One  mile  higher  up  the  stream  Dale's  party  came 
to  a  field  known  as  Randon's  farm.  This  was  a  few 
miles  below  Claiborne  and  one  hundred  and  fivp  miles, 


THE   CANOE   FIGHT.  313 

by  the  course  of  the  river,  above  Mobile.  Here,  upon 
consultation  with  Austill,  it  was  concluded  that  the 
main  party  should  re-cross  the  river  to  its  western 
bank.  For  this  purpose  the  canoes  were  put  in 
requisition,  and  the  men  were  cautiously  and  with  as 
much  swiftness  as  possible  conveyed  across  the  stream. 

The  river,  at  this  point,  was  about  four  hundred 
yards  wide.  Its  banks  were  irregular,  somewhat  pre 
cipitous,  and  covered  with  beech,  pine,  and  sycamore 
trees,  with  a  thick  undergrowth  of  cane,  vines,  and 
luxuriant  shrubbery.  The  eastern  shore,  which  the 
party  were  now  gradually  leaving,  sloped  away  into 
two  embankments,  one  rising  above  the  other  with 
considerable  abruptness,  and  then  spreading  out  into 
the  field  of  which  we  have  spoken. 

While  the  conveyance  of  the  men  across  the  river 
was  progressing,  Dale,  with  Austill,  James  Smith, 
G-.  W.  Creagh,  and  a  few  others,  determined  to  par 
take  of  the  provisions  they  had  found  in  the  Indian 
pack.  In  the  old  field,  on  the  second  bank,  they 
kindled  a  fire  for  the  purpose  of  cooking  these,  and 
were  about,  in  the  language  of  Dale  himself,  "  to 
make  use  of  the  briled  bones,  and  hot  ash-cake, " 
when  they  were  startled  by  the  discharge  of  several 
rifles,  and  the  sudden  war-whoops  of  some  twenty-five 
or  thirty  Indians,  who  came  rushing  towards  them 
from  three  sides  of  the  field.  Dale's  party  immedi 
ately  seizing  their  rifles,  and  being  too  few  to  oppose 
the  force  of  the  enemy,  dashed  down  the  second  or 
upper  bank  of  the  river,  and  took  post  among  the  trees, 
whence,  they  kept  in  check  the  approach  of  the  savages. 


314  SKETCHES   AND   ESSAYS. 

By  this  time  the  canoes  had  conveyed  all  but  twelve 
of  the  entire  force  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  river, 
and  one  canoe  alone  had  returned  for  the  residue. 
This  was  the  first  thought  of  the  little  party,  who 
were  now  hemmed  hy  the  Indians.  But  simultaneously 
with  the  attack  by  land,  a  large  canoe,  containing 
eleven  warriors,  had  issued  from  a  bend  in  the  river 
above,  and  descended  rapidly  with  the  evident  design 
of  intercepting  communication  with  the  opposite  shore. 
They  now  attempted  to  approach  the  shore,  and  join 
in  the  attack,  but  were  kept  at  a  distance  by  the  well- 
directed  fire  of  a  few  of  Dale's  men.  Two  of  their 
number  however  leaped  into  the  river,  and  swam,  with 
their  rifles  above  their  heads,  for  the  bank,  just  above 
the  mouth  of  a  little  creek,  near  the  northern  corner  of 
the  field.  One  of  these,  as  he  approached  the  shore, 
was  shot  by  Smith;  but  Austill,  in  attempting  to 
intercept  the  other,  was  thrown  by  the  under- wood, 
and  rolled  into  the  water  within  a  few  feet  of  his 
antagonist.  The  Indian  reached  the  shore,  and  ran 
up  the  bank.  Austill,  in  pursuing  him,  through  the 
cane,  was  fired  at,  in  mistake  for  an  Indian,  by  Creagh, 
and  narrowly  escaped. 

During  this  bye-scene,  Dale  and  the  other  eight  of 
his  valiant  companions  were  interchanging  hot  fires 
with  the  enemy.  Those  in  the  canoe  sheltered  them 
selves  by  lying  in  its  bottom,  and  firing  over  the  sides. 
The  party  on  shore  were  deterred  from  pressing  closely 
by  an  ignorance  of  the  number  of  Dale's  forces.  This 
cause  alone  saved  them  from  certain  destruction.  But 
the  circumstances  were  now  growing  more  critical. 


THE   CANOE   FIGHT.  315 

Soon  the  Indians  must  discover  the  weakness  of  their 
opponents,  and  rush  forward  with  irresistible  superi 
ority.  A  more  perilous  position  can  scarcely  be  imag 
ined  :  and  yet  there  was  one  in  this  contest  ! 

Date,  seeing  the  superiority  of  the  enemy,  called 
out  to  his  comrades  on  the  opposite  shore  for  assistance. 
They  had  remained,  thus  far,  inefficient,  but  excited 
spectators  of  the  scene.  But  now  eight  of  their  number 
leaped  into  their  canoe,  and  bore  out  towards  the  enemy. 
Upon  approaching  near  enough,  however,  to  discover 
the  number  of  the  Indians,  the  man  in  the  bow,  be 
coming  alarmed  at  the  superiority  of  the  foe,  ordered 
the  paddles  to  "  back  water,"  and  they  returned  to 
land  !  Dale,  indignant  at  this  cowardice,  demanded 
of  his  men,  who  would  join  him  in  an  attack  upon  the 
Indian  canoe  ?  Austill  and  Smith  immediately  vol 
unteered  ;  and  with  a  negro,  as  steersman,  named 
Ctesar,  the  little  party  embarked  for  the  dreadful  en 
counter.  As  they  approached,  one  of  the  Indians 
fired  without  effect.  When  within  thirty  feet,  Smith 
fired  and  probably  wounded  an  Indian,  whose  shoulder 
was  visible  above  the  canoe.  'Dale  and  Austill  at 
tempted  to  fire,  but  their  priming  having  been  wet, 
their  guns  could  not  be  discharged.  Fortunately  the 
Indians  had  exhausted  their  powder.  The  white  party 
now  bore  down,  in  silence,  upon  the  foe.  As  the  boats 
came  in  contact  at  the  bows,  the  Indians  all  leaped  to 
their  feet.  Austill  was  in  front,  and  bore  for  a  mo 
ment  the  brunt  of  the  battle.  But,  by  ths  order  of 
Dale,  the  negro  swayed  round  the  canoe,  and  "  Big 
Sam"  leaped  into  the  enemy's  boat,  giving  more  room 


316  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

to  Smith  and  Austill,  and  pressing  together  the  In 
dians,  who  were  already  too  crowded.  The  negro  oc 
cupied  his  time  in  holding  the  canoes  together.  The 
rifles  of  both  parties  were  now  used  as  clubs  ;  and 
dreadful  were  the  blows  both  given  and  taken  ;  for 
three  stouter  or  more  gallant  men  than  these  assail 
ants  never  took  part  in  a  crowded  melee.  The  details 
of  the  struggle  can  scarcely  be  given.  Dale's  second 
blow  broke  the  barrel  of  his  gun,  which  he  then  ex 
changed  for  Smith's,  and  so  fought  till  the  end  of  the 
scene.  Austill  was,  at  one  time,  prostrated  by  a  blow 
from  a  war-club  ;  fell  into  the  Indian  canoe,  between 
two  of  the  enemy,  and  was  about  being  slain  by  his 
assailant,  when  the  latter  was  fortunately  put  to  death 
by  Smith.  Austill  rose,  grappling  with  an  Indian, 
wrested  his  war  club  from  him,  struck  him  over  the 
skull,  and  he  fell  dead  in  the  river.  The  last  surviv 
ing  Indian  had  been  before  the  war,  a  particular  friend 
of  Dale's.  They  had  hunted  together  long  and  fami 
liarly,  and  were  alike  distinguished  for  their  excellence 
in  those  vigorous  sports,  so  much  prized  by  the  man 
of  the  woods.  The  young  Muscogee  was  regarded  as 
one  of  the  most  chivalrous  warriors  of  his  tribe.  Dale 
would  always  say,  when,  long  subsequently,  he  narra 
ted  these  circumstances,  and  he  never  did  so  without 
weeping, — that  he  "  loved  that  Indian  like  a  brother, 
and  wanted  to  save  him  from  the  fate  of  the  others." 
But  the  eye  of  the  young  warrior  was  filled  with  fire  ; 
he  leaped  before  his  opponent  with  a  proud  fury  ; 
cried  out,  in  Muscogee,  "  Sam  Thlucco,  you're  a  man, 
and  I  am  another  !  Now  for  it  \" — and  grappled  in 


THE    CANOE   FIGHT.  317 

deadly  conflict.  The  white  man  proved  the  victor. 
With  one  blow  of  his  rifle  he  crushed  the  skull  of  the 
Indian.  The  young  brave,  still  holding  his  gun  firmly 
in  his  hands,  fell  backwards  into  the  water  ;  and  the 
Canoe  fight  was  over. 

The  victors  now  employed  themselves  in  clearing  the 
canoes  of  the  dead  bodies  of  the  Indians.  The  only 
weapons  left,  of  either  party,  were  a  war-club  and  rifle. 
The  Indians  upon  the  shore  had,  during  the  progress 
of  the  fight,  kept  up  a  constant  fire  with  the  party  on 
land.  They  now  directed  many  shots  at  the  canoes, 
as  they  approached  the  shore.  One  ball  passed  be 
tween  Smith  and  Austill,  and  another  struck  one  of 
the  canoes.  But,  in  spite  of  this  firing,  Dale  and  his 
colleagues  returned  to  the  shore,  took  off  their  friends 
in  safety,  and  passed  across  the  river  triumphantly. 
Notwithstanding  the  dangers  they  had  encountered, 
the  whole  party  had  not  lost  one  man,  and  the  only 
injuries  they  had  suffered,  were  some  severe  bruises 
received  by  the  combatants  on  the  water.  Austill  had. 
a  severe  contusion  on  the  top  of  the  head,  which  left 
a  permanent  dint  in  the  skull.  It  was  subsequently 
ascertained  that  the  entire  Indian  force,  on  land  and 
water,  was  two  hundred  and  eighty. 

Such,  in  its  details,  was  the  Canoe  Fight, — certainly 
the  most  remarkable  of  our  naval  engagements. 
Neither  Porter  at  Valparaiso,  nor  Perry  on  Lake  Erie, 
displayed  more  reckless  courage,  or  indomitable  forti 
tude,  than  did  these  backwoodsmen  of  Alabama.  The 
difference,  as  far  as  personal  achievement,  is  all  in  fa 
vor  of  the  latter.  The  statements  made  may  be  relied 


318  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

on  as  strictly  true.  They  are  collated  from  accounts 
given  by  the  actors  themselves ;  and  the  events  were 
witnessed  by  many  who  are  still  living  to  attest  their 
truth. 

Brightly  shone  the  eyes  of  the  anxious  occupants  of 
Fort  Madison,  when,  on  the  very  evening  of  this 
bloody  engagement,  Dale  and  his  gallant  comrades,  by 
a  forced  march  of  twelve  miles,  returned  to  that  place. 
Loud  were  the  plaudits  of  all,  and  aged  gossip  and 
prattling  child  learned  to  utter  the  names  of  the  Heroes 
of  the  Canoe  Fight  with  admiration  and  pride. 

The  war  went  on,  with  many  stirring  adventures  and 
bloody  incidents  ;  but  these  we  cannot  now  enumerate, 
except  casually,  in  connection  with  the  biographies  of 
Dale,  Smith,  and  Austill.  They  each  marched  with 
Gen.  Claiborne  in  his  expedition  to  the  Holy  Ground, 
and  acted  conspicuous  parts  in  the  battle  there  fought, 
on  the  23d  of  December,  1813.  Austill,  in  particular, 
distinguished  himself,  by  crossing  the  river  in  a  canoe, 
with  Pushmataha,  the  great  Choctaw  chief,  and  six 
warriors,  in  front  of  the  enemy's  fire,  putting  a  large 
party  to  flight,  and  capturing  a  considerable  quantity 
of  baggage  and  provisions. 

The  army  having  returned  to  Fort  Claiborne,  the 
volunteers  and  militia  were  disbanded,  as  their  time 
of  service  had  expired,  and  returned  home,  leaving  only 
a  small  force  of  regulars  under  Col.  Gilbert  G.  Eus- 
sell,  at  that  place.  The  troops,  however,  from 
along  the  Tombeckbee,  and  the  fork  of  the  rivers, 
were  not  willing  to  leave  the  frontiers  thus  poorly  de 
fended,  and  they  accordingly  formed  a  force  of  volun- 


THE    CANOE    FIGHT  319 

teers,  under  Colonel  Joseph  E.  Carson,  with  Reuben 

Saffold,  Charles  Devereaux,  John  Wells,  and Mc- 

Farland,  as  Captains;  Smith  and  Austill  were  Sergeants 
in  this  command.,  which  acted  as  rangers  from  Claiborne 
to  the  Gulf,  and  frequently  encountered  parties  of  In 
dians,  and  killed  many  of  them. 

After  the  conclusion  of  the  war,  Dale  became  an 
agent  of  Gen.  Jackson  and  the  other  American  officers 
in  command  at  Forts  Claiborne  and  Montgomery  and 
at  Mobile,  to  watch  the  proceedings  of  the  British  and 
Spaniards  at  Pensacola,  performing  many  hazardous 
enterprises,  and  mainly  communicating  the  intelligence 
which  led  to  the  seizure  of  that  post— bearing  him 
self  a  part  in  its  assault  and  capture. 

Smith  and  Austill  lapsed  back  into  private  life,— 
resuming  agricultural  pursuits  in  Clarke  County,  which 
they  had  so  gallantly  defended.  Smith,  in  a  few  years, 
removed  to  eastern  Mississippi  and  there  died,  respected 
for  his  sterling  qualities  of  character. 

Austill  removed  to  Mobile,  and  engaged  in  commer 
cial  pursuits,  greatly  esteemed  for  his  intelligence, 
integrity,  and  energy  of  character.  For  one  session  he 
has  served  in  the  State  Legislature.  At  the  present 
time  (1857)  he  partly  divides  his  time  with  agricultural 
pursuits  in  Clarke,  and  is  in  the  enjoyment  of  vigorous 
health,  looking  many  years  younger  than  he  really  is. 

The  career  of  Samuel  Dale  was  more  conspicuous 
than  that  of  his  two  associates  in  the  Canoe  Fight. 
In  1817,  the  people  of  Monroe,  then  a  rich  and  flour 
ishing  county,  chose  him  Tax  Collector ;  but,  by  a  fire, 
he  lost  a  portion  of  the  funds  in  his  hands,  and  be- 


320  SKETCHES   AND    ESSAYS. 

came  a  defaulter,  in  the  sum  of  three  hundred  dollars. 
This  the  Legislature  in  1821,  by  an  Act,  exonerated 
him  from  paying.  His  misfortunes  drew  attention  to 
his  services,  and  at  the  same  session  an  Act  was 
passed  "expressing  the  gratitude  of  the  State  of 
Alabama,  for  the  services  rendered  by  Samuel  Dale." 
It  recapitulated,  in  a  laudatory  preamble,  his  pre 
eminent  services  during  the  war,  and  stated  that  he 
had  ".  exposed  himself  to  privations,  hardships  and 
difficulties  that  have  impaired  his  constitution  and  re 
duced  him  to  indigence  :"  also,  that  from  a  want  of 
sufficient  vouchers,  he  had  never  received  any  com 
pensation  from  the  General  Government.  It,  therefore, 
enacted  that  "  the  Treasurer  be  and  he  is  hereby  re 
quired  to  pay  to  the  said  Col.  Samuel  Dale,  half  the  pay 
now  allowed  by  the  General  Government  to  Colonels 
in  the  army  of  the  United  States.  And  that  he  is 
hereby  declared  a  Brevet  Brigadier  General,  in  the 
militia  of  this  State,  and  shall  rank  as  such  whenever 
called  into  the  service  of  this  State.  And  the  Gover 
nor  is  hereby  required  to  commission  him  accordingly; 
and  that  the  Treasurer  is  authorized  and  required  to 
pay  to  said  Brevet  Brigadier  General  Samuel  Dale, 
on  the  first  day  of  January,  in  each  and  every  year, 
the  half-pay  as  aforesaid  for  and  during  his  life,  out  of 
any  monies  in  the  Treasury  not  otherwise  appropriated." 
This  act,  so  creditable  to  the  gratitude  of  our  people, 
was  permitted  to  operate  for  two  years,  when,  upon 
some  constitutional  scruple,  it  was  repealed,  and  a 
memorial  pressing  Gen.  Dale's  claims  on  the  General 
Government  was  seni  to  Congress  in  the  name  of 


THE    CANOE    FIGHT.  321 

the  State.  It  is  an  eloquent  vindication  of  his  right 
to  remuneration,  and  says,  among  other  things,  that 
"  during  the  war  he  frequently  went  on  express  with 
dispatches  from  the  armies  in  this  country,  to  the  State 
of  Georgia,  through  a  hostile  country  of  Indians,  of 
nearly  three  hundred  miles,  and  almost  every  foot  of 
the  journey,  through  the  woods,  and  thereby  rendering 
services  to  our  armies  which  no  body  else  could  be  found 
who  would  undertake  or  who  would  perform.  Com 
pensation  in  money,  or  by  grant  of  lands  in  this  State, 
is  earnestly  besought/' 

To  this  appeal  of  the  State  of  Alabama  in  behalf 
of  an  old  and  indigent  soldier,  who,  it  was  said,  had, 
"  at  the  head  of  small  parties,  waged  a  gallant  partisan 
war,  surpassed  probably  in  no  age  or  country,  and 
which  will  some  day  form  an  interesting  page  in 
American  History," — Congress  continued  to  turn  a  deaf 
ear,  and,  it  is  believed,  he  never  received  any  assistance 
from  the  Federal  Government.  He  made  several  in 
effectual  visits  to  Washington  City  for  that  purpose. 
His  fellow- citizens  of  Monroe  County  were,  however, 
more  kind  and  considerate.  Besides  ministering  to  his 
pecuniary  wants,  they  elected  him  on  several  occasions 
a  member  of  the  General  Assembly.  The  State  also 
showed  her  honors  for  him  by  establishing  a  county 
with  his  name,  in  December,  1824.  After  a  short 
residence  in  Perry  County,  Gen.  Dale,  in  1835,  removed 
to  Latiderclale  County,  Mississippi,  and  the  next  year 
was  elected  to  the  Legislature  of  that  State.  He,  how 
ever,  had  little  taste  for  public  life,  and  passed  his  time 
chiefly  on  his  farm,  which  was  a  favorite  resort  of  white 


322  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

visitors  who  loved  to  hear  the  old  warrior  recount  his 
adventures,  and  of  a  neighbouring  band  of  Choctaws, 
still  lingering  in  the  State,  who  also  gazed  with  curi 
osity  and  admiration  on  "Big "Sam,"  and  partook  of 
his  bounty  always  liberally  bestowed. 

On  the  twenty-third  day  of  r\y,  1841,  this  old 
hero,  pioneer  and  guide  closed  his  rnrny  fights, — pass 
ing  through  the  last  struggle  with  more  calmness  and 
serenity  than  he  had  ever  exhibited  before.  He  died, 
says  a  friend,  with  the  fortitude  of  a  soldier,  and  the 
resignation  of  a  Christian.  The  day  had  been  one  of 
cloud  and  tempest,  but  ended  with  a  golden  sunset  : 
no  unfit  type  of  a  career  of  struggle  and  suffering, 
brightened  at  the  close  by  the  purest  consolations  of 
humanity.  A  Choctaw  warrior  stood,  the  next  even 
ing,  by  his  grave,  and  exclaimed  in  his  rude  vernacu 
lar  :  "  Sleep  here,  Big  Sam,  but  your  spirit  is  now  a 
Brave  and  a  Chieftain  in  the  hunting-grounds  of  the 

sky!" 

This  rambling  record  here  must  end.  We  have 
shown  the  condition  and  character  of  our  earliest  An 
glo-American  population  ;  the  Red  Sea  of  trials  and 
sufferings  through  which  they  had  to  pass  ;  the  fra 
gile  bark  that  floated  in  triumph  through  the  perils 
of  the  tide  ;  and  the  heroic  performances  of  the  three 
master  spirits  of  the  period.  From  such  rude  and 
troublous  beginnings,  the  present  prosperous  popula 
tion  of  Alabama,  acquired  the  right  to  say,  "  Here  we 
rest  I" 


THE  FAWN  OF  PASCAGOULA; 

OR,    THE 

CHUMP  A"    GMRL    OF    MOBILE. 


SHALL  I  tell  you  a  story  of  real  life  as  romantic  and 
affecting  as  any  you  will  find  in  fiction  ?  Well — lis 
ten  !  Every  citizen  of  Mobile  is  familiar  with  the  sight 
of  the  Indian  girls  who  are  in  our  streets  in  the  winter. 
"With  their  little  bundles  of  lightwood  upon  their  backs, 
they  mark  the  advent  of  cold  weather  as  regularly  as 
the  mocking-bird  and  the  cardinal  chronicle  the  ap 
proach  of  Spring.  They  peddle  their  small  parcels  of 
pine  from  door  to  door,  and  all  are  familiar  with  the 
soft,  quick,  petitionary  voice  in  which  they  exclaim 
"chumpa"  as  they  offer  their  cheap  burdens  for  sale. 

These  Indian  girls,  it  is  well  known,  belong  to  cer 
tain  Choctaw  families,  who  refused  to  emigrate  with 
their  tribe  beyond  the  Mississippi,  and  yet  linger  upon 
their  aboriginal  hunting-grounds  on  the  waters  of  the 
Pearl  and  Pascagoula.  Though  they  thus  exhibit  an 
unconquerable  attachment  to  their  native  soil,  they 
have  yet  refused  to  adopt  the  habits,  language  or  pur- 


324  SKETCHES   AND   ESSAYS. 

suits  of  the  whites  by  whom  they  are  surrounded,  and 
are  perversely  indifferent  to  all  the  inducements  of 
civilization.  They  persist  in  leading  a  species  of 
savage  gipsy  life — the  men  sustaining  themselves  by 
hunting,  and  the  women,  by  vending  whortle-berries, 
and  other  wild  fruits  in  the  summer,  and  bundles  of 
pine  in  the  winter.  With  these  simple  productions, 
they  visit  Mobile  semi-annually,  and  for  the  time 
reside  in  the  vicinity,  in  small  huts  or  camps,  con 
structed  of  bark,  boards,  or  the  limbs  of  trees.  This 
has  been  their  custom  from  time  immemorial,  and  it 
yet  continues. 

These  Indians  are  generally  a  miserable  and  ignorant 
race,  but  with  all  their  degradation,  they  possess  some 
of  the  virtues  in  a  singular  degree.  The  women  are 
proverbially  chaste  and  modest,  and,  of  all  the  young 
girls  that  annually  visit  our  city,  none  have  been 
known  to  depart  from  the  paths  of  rectitude.  A  strong 
interest  therefore  surrounds  these  simple  daughters  of 
the  woods,  who  resist  all  the  blandishments  of  their 
station,  and  pass  unharmed  through  the  streets  of  our 
city.  Many  of  them  are  quite  handsome,  and  possess, 
beneath  their  rustic  garbs — the  calico  gown  and  the  red 
blanket — considerable  graces  of  manner  and  appear 
ance.  As  they  invariably  refuse  to  talk  English,  very 
little  conversation  can  be  had  with  them,  and  that  only 
in  reference  to  the  small  bargains  which  they  desire  to 
make.  "Chumpa"  and  "picayune"  are  almost  the 
only  words  which  they  employ  in  their  intercourse  with 
our  inhabitants.  Still,  they  are  not  reserved  in  their 
movements  where  they  wish  to  make  a  bargain,  and 


THE   FAWN   OF   PASCAGOULA.  325 

enter  the  different  houses  of  the  city,  stores,  dwellings, 
and  offices,  without  ceremony,  hesitation  or  announce 
ment.  Who  has  not  been  startled  many  a  morning,  by 
a  voice,  at  the  chamber-door,  exclaiming  "Chumpa?" 

The  stoical  demeanor  of  these  Choctaw  maidens  has 
often  led  to  the  impression  that  they  are  destitute  of 
the  natural  sensibilities  and  sentiments  of  their  sex. 
They  have  bright,  flashing  eyes,  well  developed, 
symmetrical  and  flexile  forms,  beautiful  small  hands 
and  feet,  and  show,  in  their  love  for  brilliant  articles 
of  dress,  rings,  beads,  and  other  personal  decorations, 
the  taste  and  vanity  of  their  civilized  sisters  ;  is  it 
possible  that  they  are  destitute  of  those  delicate  sym 
pathies  and  tender  affections  which  have  marked  woman 
in  all  other  classes  and  conditions  of  life  ?  This  question 
has  doubtless  suggested  itself  to  many,  as  an  interesting 
problem  of  character.  In  one  instance,  at  least,  an 
attempt — perhaps  a  heartless  one — was  made  to  solve 
it,  and  it  is  to  that  the  story  which  I  have  to  tell  refers. 
It  came  to  my  knowledge  in  all  its  details,  but  I  will 
attempt  to  narrate  it  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  detain 
the  reader  with  particulars  which  he  can  imagine  for 
himself. 

Among  the  Choctaw  gipsies,  who  visited  Mobile  in 
the  winter  of  1846,  was  one  of  unusual  beauty  and 
attractiveness.  Although  scarcely  developed  into 
womanhood — not  more  than  seventeen  "  suns"  having 
kissed  the  rich  bronze  of  her  cheek — she  was  yet  tall, 
round-limbed,  straight  and  graceful — a  very  model  of 
feminine  form.  Her  features,  more  prominent  and 
regular  than  is  usual  with  her  tribe,  were  delicately 


326  SKETCHES   AND   ESSAYS. 

sculptured,  and  the  erect  attitude  of  her  head,  with 
her  large  fawn-like  eyes,  and  abundant  coal-black  hair, 
always  neatly  plaited  in  massive  folds,  gave  to  her 
appearance  an  air  of  superiority  such  as  the  youthful 
Pocahontas  is  said  to  have  possessed.  Her  dress  was 
extremely  neat,  though  with  a  large  number  of  silver 
and  wampum  ornaments,  and  her  small  feet,  which 
any  of  the  fair  promenaders  on  Dauphin  might  have 
envied,  were  invariably  dressed  in  moccasins,  orna 
mented  in  the  most  fanciful  style  with  many  colored 
beads.  As  she  walked  about  the  streets  of  Mobile, 
arrayed  in  this  way,  with  her  parcel  of  pine  swung 
across  her  shoulders,  she  attracted  the  attention  of  all 
spectators,  for  her  beauty,  though  she  would  hold  con 
verse  with  none  except  in  the  few  words,  by  which  she 
endeavored  to  dispose  of  her  burden. 

Much  interest  was  naturally  felt  in  this  young  girl, 
and  many  efforts  were  made  to  learn  something  of  her 
character  and  history.  Nothing  further  could  be 
gleaned,  (and  this  was  told  by  "  Captain  Billy/'  a 
drunken  Choctaw,  frequently  seen,  in  garrulous  moods, 
in  our  streets,)  than  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  an 
Indian  Chief  of  much  note,  who  died  many  years  before, 
leaving  her,  an  only  child,  with  her  mother,  in  their 
cabin  on  the  Pascagoula.  Her  singular  beauty  had 
made  her  quite  a  belle  with  the  young  Choctaw  war 
riors,  but  she  was  very  shy,  and  was  called  in  the  In^ 
dian  tongue,  The  Wild  Fawn  of  Pascagoula.  She 
supported  her  mother,  who  was  very  old,  and  herself, 
by  her  traffic  in  berries  and  "  light  wood."  Her  per 
sonal  charms  made  her  one  of  the  most  successful 


THE    FAWN    OF    PASCAGOULA.  327 

dealers  in  these  articles,  and  every  one,  particularly  the 
young  men  of  Mobile,  were  glad  to  give  the  preference 
in  their  patronage  to  this  young  and  attractive  creature. 
Many  were  the  efforts  made  to  gain  her  smiles,  and 
enlist  her  in  conversation,  but  they  were  all  in  vain. 
She  would  go  her  daily  round,  and  enter  with  perfect 
unreserve,  the  rooms  or  offices  of  her  patrons,  deposit 
her  little  load  of  pine,  receive  her  dime,  and  then 
quickly  retire  with,  the  sticks  in  her  hands,  to  procure 
another  parcel. 

Things  glided  on  in  this  way  for  some  months,  dur 
ing  the  winter  of  which  I  speak.  At  last  an  event  oc 
curred,  which  tested  the  stoicism  and  character  of  the 
young  Fawn  of  Pascagoula.  Among  those  whom  she 
daily  supplied  with  lightwood,  was  a  young  lawyer, 
residing  in  an  office  in  the  second  story  of  a  building 
on  one  of  our  principal  streets.  Admiring  the  beauty 
of  this  timid  visitor,  and  feeling  a  strong  interest  in 
her,  he  determined  to  see  if  he  could  not,  by  kindness 
of  manner,  deferential  notice,  and  elegant  presents, 
win  the  heart  of  this  simple  child  of  the  woods. 
Though  his  motive  was  mainly  curiosity,  his  purposes 
were  not  bad,  and  he  had  no  idea  of  doing  any  injury  to 
the  object  of  his  experiment — by  paying  her  those  at 
tentions  which  had  been  found  potent  to  enchain  the 
admiration,  and  win  the  love  of  more  enlightened  and 
accomplished  maidens.  He  was  a  man  of  uncommon 
personal  beauty,  and  singularly  fascinating  manners, 
and  all  these  he  brought  to  bear,  as  well  as  he  could, 
to  effect  -his  innocent,  and,  as  he  thought,  harmless 
flirtation. 


328  SKETCHES    AND    ESSAYS. 

It  is  needless  to  detail  the  arts  resorted  to  by  Henry 
Howard  to  win  the  heart  of  the  Fawn  of  Pascagoula. 
He  began  in  the  most  modest  and  deferential  manner ; 
he  purchased  from  her,  much  more  frequently  than  he 
needed,  supplies  of  fuel,  paid  her  larger  sums  than  she 
asked,  and  made  her  presents  of  trinkets,  pictures,  and 
little  ornaments  of  dress,  and  accomodated  himself  in 
every  way  to  her  apparent  wishes.  These  things  con 
tinued  for  some  weeks,  and  at  last  began  to  have  obvi 
ous  effects.  The  Fawn  tarried  longer  in  her  visits  at 
his  office  than  elsewhere  ;  she  always  came  there  first, 
and  took  an  evident  interest  in  his  attentions.  At 
length  she  began  to  answer  his  remarks  in  such  few 
words  of  English  as  she  could  command,  and  to  look 
upon  his  handsome  and  fascinating  countenance  with 
pleased  smiles  and  earnest  continued  attention.  The 
spell  evidently  began  to  work!  Henry  Howard  un 
derstood  the  secrets  of  woman's  heart  well ;  but  here 
he  had  to  deal  with  an  untutored  Indian  girl,  timid  as  a 
bird,  and  whose  springs  of  emotion  and  sympathy  could 
not  be  determined  by  the  ordinary  standards  of  feeling. 

Do  not  think  that  I  am  depicting  those  subtle  arts 
of  fascination  by  which  the  rattle-snake  lures  and 
captivates  the  humming-bird.  There  was  no  purpose 
of  evil  in  the  heart  of  the  young  attorney.  He  was 
but  practising,  with  a  simple  savage  heart,  those  tricks 
and  elegancies  of  intercourse,  which  are  recognized  as 
legitimate  in  civilized  society.  He  wished  to  see  if 
the  same  affections  could  be  developed  in  the  beaded 
beauty  of  the  forest,  as  are  to  be  found  with  the  pol 
ished  belle  of  the  ball-room  and  the  boudoir.  The 


THE   FAWN   OF   PASCAGOULA.  329 

probabilities  were,  that  the  experiment  would  not 
succeed — a  casuist  would  therefore  think  it  harmless. 

Months  had  passed  in  this  way,  and  Henry  Howard 
at  last  determined  to  make  a  more  obvious  demonstra 
tion  of  his  love,  to  the  Fawn  of  Pascagoula.  One 
cold  morning  in  February,  just  as  he  had  finished  his 
toilet,  he  heard  a  light  step  at  the  door,  and  a  well- 
known  voice,  as  the  speaker  entered,  playfully  ex 
claiming  "chumpa,  chumpa!"  Arrayed  in  her  most 
beautiful  dress,  with  a  band  of  silver  around  her  hair,  and 
long  necklaces  of  beads  falling  from  her  graceful  neck, 
the  Fawn  stood  before  him.  She  threw  her  armful  of 
pine  upon  the  hearth,  and  looked  smiling  into  his  face. 
In  his  most  graceful  manner  he  approached  her  and 
took  her  hand  in  his.  Suddenly  he  encircled  her  waist 
with  his  arm,  and,  drawing  her  to  him  he  imprinted 
upon  her  lips,  a  long  and  fervent  kiss.  Modestly  she 
looked  into  his  face,  with  a  slight  expression  of  sur 
prise,  but  not  dissatisfaction  ;  and  then  he  poured 
forth  to  her  warm  and  urgent  words  of  love.  Neither 
were  these  coldly  spoken,  for  the  young  and  ardent  ad 
mirer  had  been  no  little  interested  in  the  object  of  his 
attentions.  As  he  was  about,  however,  to  repeat  his 
kisses,  the  now  startled  Fawn,  by  a  quick  movement, 
unloosed  herself  from  his  embraces,  and  glided  across 
the  room. 

"  Stand  off,  Mr.  Howard,"  she  exclaimed  in  better 
English  than  he  had  ever  heard  her  speak  before,  "  Me 
good  friend  to  kind  gentleman — but  no  love  !  The 
Fawn  must  many  her  own  people.  She  love  young 
warrior  up  on  Pascagoula  !  He  have  heart  and  skin 


330  SKETCHES   AND   ESSAYS. 

the  same  color  !  Mobile  man  not  good  for  Choctaw 
girl.  Me  go  to  my  home — to  Choctaw  Chiefs  cabin — 
tomorrow.  Good-by!  Me  love  you  much, — you  so 
kind,' — but  no  wife ! " 

As  she  said  this,  she  drew  her  red  blanket  as  proudly 
.>•  about  her,  as  ever  a  fashionable  belle  donned  her 
mantilla  at  a  ball,  and  glided  from  the  door.  Struck 
as  motionless  as  a  statue,  the  elegant  Henry  Howard, 
the  Mobile  dandy,  stood  gazing  at  the  door  through 
which  the  young  Choctaw  girl  had  vanished  !  His  lips 
were  slightly  parted,  his  eyes  widely  open,  — a  look  of 
wonder  and  doubt  upon  his  handsome  face  ! 

"  By  heavens  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  Is  it  possible  ! 
Caught  in  my  own  trap  !  Jilted  by  an  Indian  ! 
Well !  it's  a  good  joke,  and  all  right  !  But,  by  Te- 
cumseh  and  Pushmataha  !  I  must  take  care  that  the 
belles  of  Mobile  do  not  find  out  the  story.  Let  who 
will  hereafter  experiment  upon  Choctaw  characto,  to 
discover  whether  these  Churnpa-girls  have  not  like 
affections  with  other  people,  I,  for  one,  am  satistfied. 

This  Fawn  of  Pascagoula  has  for  months  taken  all 
my  presents  and  delicate  attentions  with  the  timid 
gentleness  of  a  nun,  and  now  has  given  me  the  sack  as 
completely  as  it  could  have  been  done  by  any  fashion 
able  coquette  in  a  gilded  saloon,  by  the  light  of  a  chan 
delier.  Well,  that's  something  rich  !  Bravo  !  Henry 
Howard  !  Eecollect  here?4'*  Tom  Moore  says  : 

'  What'er  her  k  ,     „*••»  —        1Slwill, 
And  Woman,  will  be  Woman  still.'  " 

THE    END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


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REC'D  L 
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RECEIVED 

DEC -3 '56 -8  A 


LOAM  DEPT 

LD  21-100m-9,'48(B399sl6)476 


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•APRS    1973 


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